


Crimson Tangerine

by enchanted_nightingale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Model Harry, Muggle Celebrity Harry, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:16:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchanted_nightingale/pseuds/enchanted_nightingale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first encounter changed the course of their lives. What will a second meeting bring?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trips and Fangs

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

I.  
He had been happy, so very happy to actually go on this trip. It was silly really, something so small, but he could not help it. The Dursley’s had grumbled and complained but in the end they couldn’t send Dudley without Harry, they could not be so blatant about their dislike for the green eyed kid. The reservoir the primary school had decided to visit was close by, offered a meal for free to the kids, just the basics and they would be back by evening anyway. But on the other hand it was the perfect chance to be rid of him for a few more hours. They had worked the eight year old to the bone, even more so than usual and had starved him for a couple of days, their way of getting revenge for the few extra pounds they would spend on him. It was the only time Harry did not even think to talk back, that’s how big an opportunity this was and the kid knew this. It was his dream, to be away from his relatives and if he was lucky avoid his cousin as well.  
So Harry Potter had gone on his first ever field trip with the primary school. The eight year old boy had been over the moon, for once not caring about the second hand clothes, his meagre helping of food, courtesy of his aunt (five pieces of stale bread was all she had given him while Dudley got sandwiches and an allowance). Harry had thought he would enjoy himself, just this once, just for a day. But Dudley and his group had had other plans. The moment the teachers turned their back, Harry had been forced to run, run as fast as his young legs could carry him. So far he had been caught by some of his cousin’s punches, a split lip and a bruised side was what he had to show so far and he knew, just knew, this could get worse. The forest that was near the camp the school had taken them had been his only escape so he took to it, disappearing among the old trees, the moss and the fog that existed.  
II.  
Senses were on overload. The hunt had left him exhausted. He had never before encountered Vampire hunters this intent to see him dead. They had followed him all the way from Japan, to China, across Russia, half of eastern and central Europe till they finally caught up with him after crossing half the world. He had been slowing down, not having enough time to feed and replenish; what they had counted on really. The fight was brutal. No one really won when a Vampire and a Hunter crossed paths, not even the winners, who in most cases tended to succumb to injuries soon after they won.  
“And what a way to go,” the un-dead muttered derisively. In this no name forest, surrounded by fog and trees. He was clutching the wound on his stomach, blood gushing sluggishly from there. He was dizzy so he did not trust his senses when they warned him of an approaching creature. It could not be a friend; he never had any that would care enough to help him dodge Hunters. So it could only be an enemy. And he was too tired to care, too tired to react. The fog soon revealed what it had been hiding, a small form, messy and warm and having the brightest pair of eyes he had ever seen, eyes that reminded the Vampire so much of Crown of Andes, the most precious collection of emeralds he had ever seen, anyone had ever seen on earth. And then the apparition spoke, asked after his health. And Orfeus Sanguini replied, thinking it only proper manner to do so.  
“Just dying, green eyes,” he told the emerald eyed creature. He was a bit disappointed at his untimely end, or was it timely? Vampires had to perish sometime. Orfeus, often known to humans by his last name, a title he had acquired sometime during the Byzantine Empire as it rose across Europe, had seen civilizations rise and fall. Had been there when Rome burned for Nero’s whims, when the Crusades took place, he had fought for Charlemagne, been in Maria Antoinette’s Court. He had seen history being made for so long that hardly anything surprised him anymore.  
“Dying?”  
Orfeus felt a bit of confusion. Was that sadness coming from the apparition? Or was it fear? All for him? How strange.  
“Dying, nothing to worry about,” he managed to gasp out, talking hurt him now, he realized, sickened with his own weakness. Was everyone this pathetic in death? He never noticed before.  
III.  
Death.  
It was a concept Harry Potter was intimately aware of. His parents had died, killed in a car crash, the Dursley’s had told him. Just once and the memory remained. It was one of Harry’s earliest memories. He had asked why he could not call Petunia ‘mummy’. She had replied that his mother was dead and that he should never call her that. That lesson was hard learned, he had earned himself a fractured arm from that and a first visit to the local hospital.  
The second death was one of Marge Dursley’s dogs. The pug had been run over by one of the cars in the neighbourhood. Marge had shed tears for the dog. Harry knew then that had that been him in the dog’s place the woman would have not cared, no one would have shed tears for him, certainly not his so called family.  
Harry’s third encounter with death had been a dead bird he had discovered when he had been tending the garden. The wing had seemed off and the small creature, while soft in his small hands, had been unresponsive. He had buried it in the garden, under the rose bushes. He had cried too, sad about the little bird. But this man here was not an animal, something that could be swept under dirt and flowers. This man, who was tall, so much taller than Vernon and slim, his skin so pale, his hair so dark and so long and wild looking that Petunia would have frowned at seeing him. And he wore weird clothes, fabrics he did not recognize. The man was still moving, talking and Harry could do… something. Perhaps the teachers would know. He only hoped they did not blame this on him as well, the Dursley’s certainly blamed him for many things already.  
“Um… I’ll get help,” he said, voice small. But the man stopped him, and refused the call for help. Biting his lips and thinking on his feet, Harry tore off part of the jacket he wore, a tattered orange one that used to belong to his cousin and tried to put pressure on the man’s wound. He did not recoil from the feel and sight of blood; he had had to patch himself up quite a lot of times and knew enough to get by. So he approached, hesitantly at first, with more conviction after that, moving quickly and gently and helping as much as he could.  
IV.  
The warmth alerted him to the fact that the green eyed creature was in fact real and not some figment of his imagination. He could hear the thumping of a heartbeat, blood rushing through veins, the warmth of a living creature. Orfeus’ gums tingled, fangs lengthening and need flooding his mouth. Blood. The one substance that could heal him, prolong his existence, so close to his reach… yet he could hardly move; he had nearly bled out. Tiny hands were upon him, trying to help, to stop the blood flow. It was touching and funny and he might have laughed, making the living one recoil.  
“Don’t bother,” he finally told this one. “I need something else to recover.”  
“What?”  
What? Wasn’t it obvious? Perhaps not to one that had no idea what he was.  
“Blood,” Orfeus replied. “I need blood.”  
“A transfusion?” came the confused reply.  
“No… something else…” he looked into green eyes, wondering how could anyone be so innocent, so clueless. “Do you know what a Vampire is?”  
“They’re not real,” was the hurried response.  
The un-dead creature thought it was a child’s voice, so soft and ethereal though.  
“Vampires and magic and imaginative stuff like that are not real!”  
Ah! Denial, so fun that state of mind.  
“But if it was, would you give your blood to save me?”  
A long pause and then a hesitant yes. Orfeus Sanguini did not even have to enthral the human to submit and help him. The small hands touched his shoulders, not caring about the dirt on his clothes, the grime and the blood. The smell of fresh, available blood became so much stronger now. Then a small wrist was extended his way, so small it could not have belonged to an adult. But the Vampire was past the point of morality and caring.  
“If you really, really need it,” a soft voice told him, go ahead.  
“It might hurt,” and it was stupid of him to say so but it showed that some form of morality still clung to him.  
“I don’t want you to die.”  
Orfeus realized that that was the first time he heard those words in a very long time and he obeyed the unspoken demand. His fangs lowered, his mouth opened. He ignored the soft gasp of surprise when the little human caught sight of his inhuman teeth but there was no struggle, probably because of the blood. It was hardly a struggle to break the soft skin. Soon blood rushed into Sanguini’s mouth, freely and willingly given to him, and it tasted divine. There was so much power in it too. It was then that Orfeus realized he was dealing with a wizard. The sweetness was not something Muggle’s were capable of having. All the power and magic the blood carried rushed through the Vampire. While normal, mundane blood carried several properties that were used to help preserve a Vampire’s body, magical blood was much more, enhancing the senses, adding strength, offering healing abilities much more accelerated than Muggle blood did. There was a reason the magical folk wanted to restrict the Vampires and disallow them from taking their meal from wizards; no one liked predators stronger than them and Vampires could battle magical humans for the top.  
V.  
He had to be lying, this man had to be lying for sure and until he saw the fangs, sharper than Ripper’s, any dogs really, Harry realized that the man had not been lying. He knew about Vampires. He had read a book about them in the school library. The librarian, Miss Jones, she liked him and allowed him inside to read, and even eat! She had treated him many times, giving him cookies and juice and apples and helped him with his reading and writing when the place was quiet, which was quite often. Vampires drank blood. They also killed people, the book said. Was he going to die? It was a question Harry had no way to answer. When he felt the skin on his arm break and fangs sinking in it hurt a lot less than the time one of Marge’s dogs had bitten him on the leg. His hand felt numb and after a while he felt dizzy, like the time Dudley had hit him so hard on the head that he blacked out. Then the fangs slipped out and he watched, through heavy eyes but fascinated to be seeing this all the same. The fangs were sharp and so close. Then he licked the skin and the puncture marks faded a bit though the area was still smudged by blood.  
“Your taste is delicious little one,” the Vampire said. Because he was a Vampire, Harry was no longer thinking the man was lying, not with the way his eyes glowed red when before they had been a dull icy blue, nearly white colour.  
“Will you get better now?” Harry asked, the initial concern that had made him approach this man, despite his fear that Dudley and his cousin’s gang might catch up.  
“Scared I might eat you up?”  
Harry shook his head.  
“What a silly little boy,” Orfeus muttered, “All alone, in the woods…”  
“I can’t go back?”  
“Why not? Fought with your mummy?”  
Harry looked away. He missed the way the Vampire was now studying him, the way the creature that was so close to immortality studied his clothes, his injuries.  
“How old are you kid?”  
“Mmm. I’m eight.”  
The Vampire did not let his surprise show. “A runt still,” he commented, enjoying the indignation he saw flashing back at him. Still, the situation could be salvaged and that this train of thought was followed by the next question. “Do you know how to tell herbs apart, runt?”  
Green eyes peeked at the Vampire from behind wild raven black hair. “Why?”  
“I need to get me some herbs and more cloth from your jacket.”  
“Herbs? Like weeds?” the eight year old asked. He looked at a loss, not understanding why anyone would be wanting them for anything at all. Petunia certainly never had and kept ordering the boy to weed her garden.  
“Not for me, herbs with magical properties have the tendency of dying around the blood of my kind,” Orfeus explained. “But you are going to need them. Some are edible. There is a stream nearby that you can drink from, berries to eat, if you wish to stay. You can always go back, understand? Now, I’ll explain which ones; it would do me no good if you were poisoned.”  
Harry nodded slowly and listened to the man’s orders.  
VI.  
Two days.  
That was how long they stayed around the nook of the tree Sanguini had sought refuge under. They were lucky it had not rained those two nights. The runt, Harry as he later insisted on being called, was fast and smart. He got the right herbs for the Vampire and Orfeus had not needed to drink more than twice from the child before he was fully recovered. The Vampire discovered that the kid was a closet mother hen, fretting about his health of all things. It had been funny, and nice to think about. But then the proximity ward Orfeus had set up got triggered. The Hunter’s comrades were here and he had to flee. He was not in perfect health but it would do. It was night and the kid had curled up against him. There had not been any warmth to be shared and the kid seemed to not be used to it either way. Two days and no one had come for him; no one had searched the forest for this loving caring child. There was something wrong going on and he had neither the time nor the strength to deal with it. He leaned over the kid’s sleeping form. He buried his fingers in the dark mop and gave a short caress. His lips turned up in a smirk, not quite a smile, at the way the child seemed to lean towards his cold touch.  
“Silly boy,” he muttered. “But I guess I owe you one, owe you my life. A debt I will pay back, just got to keep myself alive. See you around.”  
The child did not even stir.  
Two weeks it took for Orfeus to clear up all his troubles with the Vampire Hunters. Two very long weeks and he had had to pull some favours to do this. When he was done he went back to the clearing, fearing what he might find there. The child was blissfully absent, had been for over ten days. So he searched for him. The most he could find out came from discarded newspapers and Muggle TV. They told the story of an orphan that had been taken in by his family and abused. The school had alerted the family that the child had been lost during a trip. Several other kids had even mentioned to teachers and parents that they had seen Dudley bullying the green eyed kid and chase him into the forest. The Dursley’s seemed unconcerned about the whole incident. Then the police stepped in. A search was organized and they found the boy the day after he had left, around noon. Further investigation revealed that the Dursley’s had kept their nephew hidden under their stairs, in a boot cupboard even though they had two spare rooms. The authorities then tested the boy and found out he had had several broken bones that had mended on their own while he had been in hospital twice. They also found out that a stipend was given to the Dursley’s to care for the orphaned boy but none of the money ever went for the kids care. By court order the Dursley’s were sent to jail, their son to his paternal aunt. As for the boy, Harry James Potter ended up getting adopted by a person whose name was not released to the press. But Orfeus hardly cared because he now had a name and he knew he would be in that kid’s future.  
“Harry James Potter,” he mused, staring at the article; there was no picture of the kid. He did not need, not when he had the kid’s blood running through his veins.  
VII.  
The hospital was quiet and nice, much better than the ambulance that took him here the first time, where so many people had been shouting and trying to get his picture. The doctors and nurses had been fussing over him, healing his scrapes and bruises, given vitamins and iron for his low red cell count, lots of water and food as well. He never told the psychologists who questioned him that he was not alone in the forest and that he had the company of a Vampire of all people. That was one thing Harry kept to himself. Other than that, he answered questions about what he ate, how he survived. One particular doctor (“Call me Philip or Phil buddy. Now, let’s bandage this leg, shall we?”) Had been angry at his oversized clothes. He had kept asking the green eyed boy questions and Harry, too tired to remember to lie as Vernon had always threatened him to do. He was tired and hungry and thirsty and the bed had been real, (“So soft, not like my mattress in my cupboard”, the child had muttered). That had made the good doctor angry but not at Harry. Then more people had come, some from the Social Services, from the Police and even more doctors to examine Harry and lawyers and a judge; and reporters with cameras and microphones but then security and the police had come and thrown them out. Following that shocking day Philip had brought him chocolate and new clothes, neither of which Harry had had before. He stayed in the hospital while the trial was on. He never saw Vernon or Petunia or Dudley while the trial was on.  
When he was a bit older he would be told about the appalled looks from the court about the behaviour of his relatives, about the scandal that the media unearthed when they searched deeper. Harry had always been told what a burden he was, that he cost them money and space and that he should be glad they kept him. They had lied about that as the house they had been staying had been his and in addition the Dursley’s received money, quite a generous sum too, to care for their nephew, money that Petunia hid from her husband and used to buy jewellery and expensive toys for her son, never spending a penny to buy clothes for her nephew, or even feed him. Harry’s case made front page news for a long time, the public outcry being huge from the damning evidence the authorities discovered about Harry’s living conditions and treatment. The fact that the Dursley’s, upon being told by the school that their nephew was missing, did not search for the boy themselves, but had even tried to make others stop searching for him, had been received as attempted murder from the judge, because who in their right minds would abandon a kid on its own in a forest of all places, not caring about what happened? Vernon and Petunia had been sentenced to thirty years in jail each in the end. The sentence could not be anything less, not after the entire nation and even a big portion of Europe was following the outcome of the trial. The media had already condemned them; the courts came second in that regard and brought much satisfaction to the awaiting public. Harry, during those days had their complete and total support, unlike the previous years of his life that he had spent unnoticed and ignored. The Dursley’s lost custody of Dudley, who was also seeing psychologists by then and Harry was later told Marge had taken the boy in. In addition, every penny Vernon and Petunia to their names was given to lawyers or returned to the stipend they had been draining for nearly eight years and Harry, it was decided would become a ward of the state. Only Harry was lucky enough to never step foot in an orphanage.  
Harry had cried when he found out the details of the trial, but he had not been alone by that time. If one good thing happened from his ordeal in that forest, it was meeting Philip and later his wife Clarissa. The spouses had taken a liking to Harry and had appealed to the judge to be considered Harry’s caregivers. They argued they would be perfect to provide and care for the broken boy and the judge had agreed without protest after all the proper background checks were done. The green eyed boy had walked out of the hospital holding Clarissa’s hand, half the nurses and doctors, all Philip’s colleagues, cooing at him and from then on, towards a new life.  
VIII.  
“Harry! Breakfast!”  
The child perked up when the voice carried from downstairs to his room.  
“Coming!” he yelled back with a grin.  
Three years, three wonderful, stress free, warm and loving years. That was how long Harry spent with his new family. The Lloyd family. Philip Lloyd and his wife Clarissa Burton had taken Harry in, later adopting him. They never changed his name, just added their own to complement the surname he already had. Philip was a doctor, the one who had examined Harry and gathered all evidence for the trial against the Dursley’s. Philip’s wife, Clarissa, was a fashion editor. They were both well in their forties, childless and had loved Harry the moment they saw him. It had taken a while for Harry to trust them enough and love them back, but they were a family now, his very own family. They cared for him; made sure he had everything he needed, including lots of love and plenty to keep him busy. Under their care Harry flourished. And when the letter from Hogwarts came, they were happy for him and supportive and equally worried about him going away to a boarding school, so far away from them for the majority of a year. It had been a difficult decision to make but they had done it, everything for their Harry, who had once again brought them closer as a family and filled their empty house with laughter and colour.  
It had not been easy at first. Harry was too hurt by people and he trusted no one, the Dursley’s had made a lot of damage, as well as all those people who had ignored the fact that Harry was too skinny, too small and generally not like an eight year old. It took years of therapy for Harry to feel better about himself, stop believing the words; lies really, his aunt and uncle told him, to trust that Clarissa and Philip actually cared and would not leave him. It had been touch and go, especially when the green eyed boy would go into panic attacks, which in turn made his magic flare and cause a whole lot of chaos, from broken glass to hair changing colour and teddy bears starting working. But they had not only managed, but bonded over everything and grown stronger as a unit. Harry was not all that happy to be going to Hogwarts for one reason only, it would mean parting from the family that had put him back together after being so broken.  
“Why the long face?” Clarissa asked the boy.  
Harry smiled at her as he joined her for breakfast. “Just... thoughts.”  
“If you make your brooding face they might not be very nice. Cheer up, love. We are going to have a wonderful day at the zoo. You’ll be going with me to visit the reptile house.”  
“You are right,” the eleven year old boy replied. He received a kiss on the top of his hair after that and was told to finish his meal. They would pick up Philip from the hospital and then go to the zoo. And tomorrow, Harry was going to Hogwarts.  
IX  
“Has anyone seen a toad?”  
Harry looked up from his novel to see a girl with bushy hair and a bit larger front teeth burst into the compartment, a space in which he was alone. There had been a red headed boy but when he had seen that Harry was in no mood to socialize he had left the compartment. Harry did not mind as he preferred peace and quiet when he could find it. He was also still tired from his latest trip. Clarissa (he could not call her mother or mum and she seemed to understand perfectly) had taken him to Milan for a fashion show. There he had also taken part on the show, walking on the catwalk side by side with famous models. It was way to pass time, modelling. And it was fun for Harry, as he met interesting people and saw so many places. Clarissa, while supportive, worried he might be piling too many things on his plate; he was already learning French and Italian and how to play the guitar. He had no friends at school, the Muggle one that is. Philip and Clarissa hoped Hogwarts might change Harry’s introverted nature.  
The green eyed wizard replied negatively to the girl and she went away with a huff. She was not the only one who entered the compartment. Earlier Harry had turned away a red haired boy who had argued in the hallway with a blond one about which of them the great Harry Potter would rather be friends with. The red head had been of the opinion that the Boy Who Lived would not care for Slytherin’s and generally anyone not in Gryffindor. Harry, after overhearing that was quite angry at them for assuming things. When the boy had later come in (“Hey, I’m Ron Weasley, is this seat taken?”) Harry had lied and replied that he expected company. The green eyed wizard really did not want to spend the trip to Hogwarts with such an obnoxious person and in the end he ended up with his book and the last bit of quiet he would have in a while. Because Harry knew, entering the magical world again would keep him in a new level of busy and he would be in the spotlight more than ever. Eleven year old Harry was not scared of the future, not when he had a mission. The first goal was to make friends. The second was to learn as much as possible about magic in general and Vampires in particular. His last goal was to make his parents proud and be happy. Harry was in for a busy year.


	2. Young Badger Learning and Befriending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters from Harry Potter do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

X  
“Hufflepuff!”  
Clapping came from said House table and Harry left the stool, took off the Hat and walked towards the people with yellow on their robes. It had been a hard decision for the Hat to make. Apparently he could have been great in Slytherin, even greater than he would have been in Gryffindor though he would have felt out of tune in the house of lions and the nest of ravens was not his cup of tea, no matter how much he loved his books and reading. But the ancient Hat had deemed him loyal enough.  
“After all, you did stick by his side, a person you just met. You gave your blood and staked your life to bring life to another. Takes a special skill to do that. And while you are headstrong and fool hardy enough for Gryffindor, you will be happier in the house of the loyal. You need someone to have at your back kid. Loyalty… Dedication… Hard Work… Fair play… Patience… Definitely one of Helga’s.”  
And apparently Helga’s House was the place for him.  
“Hi! I’m Susan Bones. She’s Hannah Abbot.”  
“Zacharias Smith.”  
“Justin Finch-Fletchley.”  
“Ernie Macmillan.”  
“Are you really Harry Potter?” Hannah asked.  
The green eyed wizard nodded and gave a short wave to his peers. “Hello all,” he said.  
Justin was giving him a curious look. “I think I’ve seen you before,” he informed the Boy-Who-Lived.  
“Is your father Thea Fletchley?” Harry asked.  
“Yes,” Justin confirmed. “He’s in…”  
“Fashion business, designs furniture and lately, shoes. I know, met him last year in Paris,” Harry finished for the other eleven year old. “My adoptive… mother is Clarissa Burton-Lloyd.”  
“No way! You’re the Emerald Prince?”  
A tentative nod from Harry.  
“So cool! Never met a model before,” Justin mused. Harry blushed at the attention the others gave him, after the Muggleborn wizard explained what Muggle models were like. The girls were more interested and the boys gave him pitying looks. Then they all started talking, discussing families and likes while eating. It was the first time Harry felt part of a group.   
XI  
“Bored, so very bored,” Orfeus Sanguini sing-songed, making Lorcan d’Eath cringe.  
Vampire and part Vampire were seated side by side, enjoying the fruits of their labours. Their newest disc had launched that day and had been an instant hit. Unlike Lorcan’s other music, this time the target was the Muggle audience. Orfeus had accepted the offer from the younger male and was now reaping the fruits of it. Money and fame, much more than they could have achieved by staying within the confines of the magical community alone. It had been a way to pass time, to make more money, do something, anything at all. It was also good practice for his music skills, skills he had not used since his last stint in Louis the Fifteenth’s court.   
“We just took a breather,” Lorcan told him. And it was true. They had been working on the album for about a year before its release, working on the music, the lyrics, the publicity. They had been run to ground for months and had they not been more than human they would have found their health suffering. The human member of Lorcan’s band, the guitarist, had been exhausted and only ‘Pepper Up’ had helped him keep up with one Vampire, one part Vampire and part human, one Veela and one Werewolf.   
Sanguini shrugged in response to Lorcan’s words; He was sprawled on a sofa and looked antsy.  
“When was the last time you fed?” Lorcan asked.  
“Yesterday. I’m good for a few more days,” the older Vampire replied dismissively. “I’m just… I hate being idle.” He needed to keep busy and Lorcan knew this as well. Still, that was a subject they would not touch, not now not ever.  
“Then go do something, stop disturbing my rest. Unlike you, I need to sleep,” Lorcan sighed. He was getting a headache from hearing Orfeus complaining non stop.  
Orfeus rolled his eyes and stood.   
“Where are you going?” Lorcan asked.  
“Out!” Orfeus said and stormed off.  
“Why do I put up with him?” the part Vampire asked the empty room.  
XII  
Philip called for his wife the moment he saw Hedwig. The owl looked so regal and out of place in their luxurious living room. Clarissa appeared dressed and ready for work. She seemed a bit down but the moment he waved a letter her way, she lit up.  
“Letter from Harry,” she breathed and he nodded.  
“This lovely lady flew a long way for us,” Philip told her.  
Clarissa crooned at the owl, taking out a dish of water and finding her owl treats, which Hedwig took gladly. Then two happy parents sat down to read the first letter from their son. It was long, almost a foot long, full with bubbling endorsement about his House, the Sorting Ceremony, Justin Finch-Fletchley, the rest of the year mates, the food, descriptions of the castle, the dorm, everything he had seen during his first week in detail for them to be part of.  
“He certainly sounds excited,” Clarissa commented, trying to ignore that she was all misty eyed and wistful.  
“I’m glad,” Philip told her. “Perhaps he’ll make friends now, friends his age.”  
“I hope so,” his wife replied. She eyed Hedwig who seemed to be observing them. “Can you take an answer back?”  
The owl gave a bark like noise of approval and the two Muggle’s smiled and set about writing their reply back.  
XIII  
Harry Potter was not what the magical world had expected as they soon find out. He was timid, not quite shy, just careful around people. He liked reading; he enjoyed helping people and was modest, as his fellow Hufflepuff’s soon found out first. It was how he made so many friends. It was the Slytherin’s that found out second and the first of them was their Team Seeker, Terence Higgs. Apparently Higgs was the nephew of Triana Higgs, a photographer, who while a pureblood, moved in Muggle fashion circles.  
“I saw the pictures from Madrid,” he told the first year after he helped him get to class one day. The compliment following the comment had made Harry blush.  
Slowly they started talking about more subjects and Harry was introduced to Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davies. Then came more Slytherin’s, from all years. Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor was the first of the House of Lions that Harry met and liked. Steadily but surely, Harry’s circle of friends and acquaintances grew and the boy flourished. Though there were few people he was close to, mainly Justin, Susan and an older Puff, Cedric Diggory.   
Most people were disappointed that he was a Hufflepuff, mainly one Ronald Weasley from Gryffindor and most Ravenclaw’s who could just not see him for what he was. Adults were torn as well. The Potions Master seemed to hate him, McGonagall came shooting him looks when she thought he was not looking, Quirrell stuttered around him and the Headmaster, he was oddly friendly whenever they met in corridors. Still, Harry was used to people expecting something different from him, so he paid them no mind and went about learning magic and having fun.  
XIV  
One of the first places Harry had been eager to visit was the library. The books he had shopped from Diagon Alley had not been very informative about the one subject Harry had been eager to learn about since he was eight years old: Vampires. He still recalled the man in the forest, how could he possibly forget? He had been the one to reveal the magical world to the green eyed child. He had also been part of the change; because of him he had left the Dursley’s and was now happy, with a family that loved and cared for him. And he found quite a lot of things in one particular book, ‘Vampyr: Facts and Myths about Vampires’. According to the book, Vampires were humanoid beings that sucked blood from living beings, human their most common prey. They were classified as beings by the Ministry of Magic, meaning that while not considered to be wizards, they had certain rights, as was laid down in the Ministry's Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans. There were lots of things in the book, mostly myths the Muggle’s had concerning Vampires and the most famous Vampires in the magical world. It was basically useless as a source of information, but he certainly learned that the wizards were prejudiced towards them and anything not completely human.  
XV  
The platform was busy but not nearly as much as it was when Harry first rode the train to Hogwarts. It was Christmas and the green eyed wizard had been eager to leave the medieval castle behind in favour of seeing his parents, the parents that he had missed. It had surprised the boy just how homesick he had been all those months. His fellow Hufflepuff’s had understood perfectly, never mocking him. They had in fact supported the boy and he had supported them back. That was how things were in Helga’s house and that was what Harry liked most about the place. Seeing Clarissa and Philip, dressed as warmly as they could, searching for him in the crowd, had made Harry’s heart do a small flip and warmth flood to his stomach. Being spotted and seeing their wide smiles, the sheer relief on their faces... Harry had run towards them, falling in their awaiting arms.  
“How I missed you!” Clarissa hugged Harry to her. It was the end of a very eventful year for Harry. First, the groundskeeper had been raising a dragon in Hogwarts grounds. Then, a troll found its way inside the school. Last, but not least, Quirrell had tried to steal whatever was in the third corridor and died while trying. That last thing had taken place during the Easter Holidays, but Harry had not been at school, his parents had taken him to celebrate with his grandparents.   
Now that he was finished with his first year and ready to go home, Harry found that he had missed his parents as well.  
“Who are they, Harry?” Philip asked after he had his hug from the green eyed eleven year old wizard.  
“These are my friends. That’s Justin, Susan and the tall kid with big smile is Cedric,” Harry presented.   
Philip and Clarissa greeted the kids, beaming at them all, truly and honestly happy that their boy was making friends; it was about time.  
XVI  
“…Give me your poison  
Give me your kiss  
Let me kiss you  
Let me feel you…”  
Orfeus and Lorcan’s voices entwined together, making the crowd beneath them start screaming. ‘Love’s Poison’ was their number one hit in US and their fans loved it. Performing live, with the lights on them, hundreds of people singing along, it was a wonderful feeling, like being on top of the word, owning part of it. And if there was one thing Vampires and Vampiric hybrids liked, it was power.   
Six years had passed since Orfeus had drunk the blood of Harry, the boy with the greenest eyes. Six long years. But he was going to make it all worth while. He was going to pay back the debt he owed the boy even if it was the last thing he did. He had also been rather busy, trying to make a name for himself in both the magical and non magical community. It had not been his idea; in fact in the beginning he had scoffed at it. But when Lorcan had heard him speak, the younger male had been adamant that he should exploit that talent. He had spoken with facts and figures and one of the universal languages, money. That was what made Sanguini try being a singer. Only later he realised he actually had a talent for it. Lyrics came easily to him. His long life had given him the education he needed to play musical instruments and be good in a few, like the guitar and the violin, and exceptional in others, like the piano. He funded a big part of his first album but from that endeavour, he earned millions. Partnering up with Lorcan, who was quite smug about the whole thing, just brought more fame, money and fans.  
“...Let me love you  
Show you that I’ll never use you  
Lose you  
Please be mine  
My very own poison wine...”  
XVII  
Cedric stared wide eyed at the backstage of the show. His eyes often strayed when he saw the models there but Harry kept poking him to keep his eyes to himself.  
“Boys, ready to dazzle” Yvonne asked. The designer was beaming at them. The two Hufflepuff’s were not the only kids there, but she seemed to prefer talking to those two. The woman had asked Clarissa for Harry when the kid was at the beach with Justin and Cedric, they had been visiting with Harry that day. Clarissa had offered both kids to come as well but only Cedric had been able to come.  
“Yes, Mrs.,” Cedric told her.  
She laughed and squeezed his cheek. “Oh! So polite! Just like Harry! So precious you two! And gorgeous as well. I bet you’ll break hearts when you’re more grown,” she said and shooed them off in order to oversee some other models.  
“This is insane,” Cedric told Harry when he saw the kid putting on some blush.  
“I know, but it’s fun too,” the green eyed wizard replied.  
“Well, yes,” the older Hufflepuff agreed. “But…”  
“Stop ogling the models Ced,” Harry told his friend who blushed and averted his gaze.   
“Can’t help myself, teenage boy here,” Cedric replied, making Harry laugh.  
“We’re starting people!” came Yvonne’s yell and they all stood at attention.  
“Hope this ends well,” Cedric muttered low, so only Harry could hear.  
“Relax, you’ll be fine,” the twelve year old assured his friend.  
XVIII  
Orfeus glared at the puny wizard, Eldred Worple. He thought he knew Vampires, their culture, their world. He was worse than the wizards who thought Muggle’s docile lambs.  
“… my book,” Worple babbled. “What do you think Sanguini?”  
The Vampire hid his scowl. He never told the man his name just a surname, but the wizard thought it was really what he was called. He fought a sigh that wanted to escape him and gave a vague nod to keep the man occupied. Then he looked around. He hated socializing with wizarding ‘elite’. He knew half of them feared him and the other half envied him, their emotions were all over the place; it made his nose burn. But he could do this, and not just because he needed to play nice to support the new Legislation. He met Xyla’s eyes from across the room. The female Vampire was the highest ranking Vampire he knew, older than him, stronger than him. She called the shots. And really, he mused, one party like this would not kill him, a few more and he might just drain a few people.  
“Play nice,” she mouthed from across the distance and he made an effort to be more polite.  
XIX  
Philip was talking with Hannah Abbot; the witch had been interested in becoming a Healer and the two had hit it off. It was in the middle of Harry’s fourteenth year birthday party, the one they gave for the teen’s magical friends. All of Hufflepuff was there, quite a number of the Slytherin’s he had befriended, a couple of Gryffindor’s, the most notable being the Weasley Twins. The entire house was filled with music and laughter.   
Clarissa was preparing for the cake when the boy that had stolen her heart walked in. Harry had grown up the last three years. He was nearing six feet now; he had shot up like a weed this summer. He was still slim, with corded muscles and the same bright eyes and raven black hair. He had lost most of the baby fat and angles were slowly maturing his face. He was going to be a heartbreaker, Clarissa realized.  
“Need any help, mother?” he asked her.  
Another thing that had changed. She was ‘mother’ to him now and Philip ‘father’. He had accepted them. Considering the scare he got last year, when his godfather had gotten out of magical prison and in the beginning everyone thought the man was out to kill Harry, the teen was growing up nicely. Sirius Black had died, trying to protect Harry from Dementors. In the middle of it all, the man who had really betrayed the Potters. Peter Pettigrew’s soulless body had been discovered by the Black Lake. Just yesterday Black’s Will was read, he had made Harry his heir. The green eyed teen had taken this rather well, but then again, he had not known the man for long.  
“I’ve got this,” she assured the teen wizard as she picked up the cake. It was chocolate; with Harry it could not be anything else. “You can bring the candles though.”  
Harry grinned, kissed her cheek and went to do exactly that.


	3. I Know That Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

XX  
He stared at the cover; he was too shocked to do much else. Paris was great during the summer, his concert, without Lorcan and the band, had been a great hit. Then he had stumbled across this fashion magazine and he could only stare. It was the same emerald green eyes, the same nose, the same hair only on a grown person’s face, but it was definitely Harry Potter, the same Harry that had given his blood to keep him alive. Even having stared at the cover for so long he could not recall anything but the teen’s face. It was a snap decision, nothing to think about really. He bought the magazine and started reading it, searching for more pictures. Turns out, there was an editorial about the boy. There was not much but it was a whole lot more than he had before. Four pictures of the boy who had grown into a gorgeous teen and would surely became a handsome man. In the article it said that his adoptive family loved him. That he went into an elite school, which was Hogwarts but the Muggle’s did not know that, the Vampire thought. Then he read about how Harry loved sports and books and enjoyed hanging out with his friends. There were questions about photo shoots and AD campaigns but none of that information stuck in Orfeus’ mind for his eyes were glued to the pictures.

XXI  
It was the gasp that alerted Philip that there was something that was up with Harry. They were alone for a few days and he had taken time off work to spend with his son, enjoy their summer for a while together since Harry was not modelling these days or at school or seeing his friends. The green eyed wizard had jumped at the chance to do this and the father and son duo had spent all day out, visiting stores, watching a football game, eating junk food away from Clarissa’s frowning face. Their last stop was a store that sold movies and music.   
“You choose the movie, I’ll check out something one of the guys suggested to me from work,” Harry told his father.  
“I gathered the impression that you thought modelling was fun.”  
“Dad, I’m getting paid and bossed around, it’s work.”  
Philip laughed. “Go ahead.”  
Harry had. And for the past few moments he was standing stock still, holding onto a CD case and goggling at the cover.  
“Harry? Son? What’s wrong?”  
“I know this man,” Harry said in a low voice.  
Philip stared at the cover of the CD. It was the profile of a man, a very gorgeous one at that, pale blue eyes, velvet black hair and a look of mischief about him. It was also a very familiar face. “I know this guy,” he told Harry, “Of him more like it. He’s a singer…”  
“He’s a Vampire,” the teen said.  
“What?! Really?” the doctor stared at the picture. Then he glanced at Harry. “You know a Vampire? How come?”  
“It was before I met you and mum,” Harry responded before going quiet.  
“Going to buy that?” his father asked and he nodded.

XXII  
A week later and Harry had bought all three of the Vampire’s albums. He sat in his bedroom, staring at the empty tank he usually kept his pet snake. Discovering he could talk to the cold blooded reptiles had been a shock. It was Blaise Zabini who had worked it out, when Harry, visiting the other teen’s home, came across a boa and started chatting with the animal. The Slytherin had been shocked and then quite ecstatic. He had been the first to gift Harry for his twelfth birthday, sending him a boa as a present. Harry’s mother had been scared but also very intrigued, especially when she saw Harry order the snake around. Not even the mess with the Chamber of Secrets opening that year and the people who got petrified had dampened Harry’s like for snakes. Thankfully the monster in the Chamber had been found when Harry told Pomona Sprout how he could hear something talk in the walls. It was a done deal, but the green eyed teen had remembered it only because of track nine in the album, ‘Viper’s Way’. It was a dark song; made seductive by the same voice that Harry recalled telling him he was silly, reassuring him that it would not rain on them when they were out in the open. This was his Vampire, the raven haired Hufflepuff was certain. He had yet to see a video clip with the face of the singer but he knew without a doubt that his memory was not playing tricks on him.  
“Orfeus,” he mused, reading the cover. The name certainly fit the Vampire. Harry fingered his wrist. No marks remained but he could still recall the feeling of fangs sliding in his skin. He did not fail noticing that his body was reacting to the memory of that feeling or that the reaction was one of arousal. He tried to ignore it and managed it quite well when awake, but in his dreams, thoughts of the Vampire would not leave him be.

XXIII  
The entire Vampiric community was upset. The reappearance of Death Eaters during the Quidditch World Cup and the Dark Mark on the sky after more than a decade of peace and quiet came as a blow to the gut. They had all suspected the Dark Lord had not really been dead when the wizards did not find a body. Orfeus, like many of his brethren, had feared the man’s rise to power. Voldemort was a megalomaniac. The lies he spouted about purebloods being the top of society, about ending Muggle’s and the like were absurd; how some believed him, Orfeus would never know. Xyla’s mansion in northern France was packed with all of the influential people of their kind. Even Lorcan, who was usually scorned for being part human, had been invited. It was imperative for them to make plans, strategize, decide what actions they ought to take.  
“Well, I say we let the mortal battle it out,” was one of the most popular themes among them.  
“I do not believe we will be given the choice of watching from the sidelines,” Orfeus mused. “Not this time.”  
There was a scoff. Eyes turned towards the half Vampire among them.  
“I, for one, won’t be with the crazy snake guy,” Lorcan stated. “Nor the fucking Ministry. Have you seen the new Legislation? We barely managed from keeping it from being passed. That Umbridge woman has more power by the year. I’m telling you, first the werewolves, then it’s us. I pity the money we gave Fudge, that wizard is worthless.”  
Many nods followed Lorcan d’Eath’s statement.  
“And you won't see me rooting for Dumbledore,'' Orfeus added his two sickles. ''No one with that much power should remain so neutral, or have his hands in so many pies.''  
''And now he has the freaking Boy Who Lived,'' one of the Vampires said.  
Orfeus felt his eyes widen but gratefully no one was saying anything about his expression. The talks continued, many opinions were shared and plans were formed. The discussion did not turn back to Harry Potter but Voldemort’s name was mentioned again, as well as Dumbledore’s. Sanguini preferred it this way. He would rather the Vampires never noticed Harry, that was how possessive he felt about the green eyed child that had stolen his heart.

XXIV  
Cedric and Justin had followed Harry to the concert, wincing when particularly loud fans would squeal and yell.  
“I can’t believe you got tickets for Lorcan’s concert,” Justin was really excited about this. He looked around, a t-shirt of the band’s name, Ether’s Fangs.  
“Will you quit bouncing?” Cedric asked the younger boy. He was not nearly as close to Justin as he was to Harry but he could not turn the green eyed wizard’s offer down. Besides this being a lot of fun, he was a huge fan of the group.  
“Man, ‘Necks to you’ is one of my favourite songs,” Justin babbled.  
“I’m still surprised at the sheer amount of Muggle’s all around,” Cedric looked around. The audience was mostly Muggle’s. He had never been around this large a group of Muggle’s before. He was not prejudiced, but he felt rather weird too. Harry poked his side.  
“Stop brooding,” the raven haired Hufflepuff gave a second poke. The cheering heightened and the saw a figure entering the stage among smoke and lights. “It’s starting,” Harry pointed out.  
“Good evening, my tasty little morsels,” Lorcan d’Eath’s voice drifted all over the place, dark and seductive.  
Harry grinned, ready to enjoy his first concert ever. And he did. Harry and his two friends had the time of their lives. They sang and yelled and shouted and cheered till they were tired and their throats hurt. The concert lasted two hours and by the time it was over Harry felt that he could sing no more. They were exiting the concert area, chattering away excitedly. The green eyed teen never noticed how one person of the crowd that came from the officials’ seats stopped short and stared at him, pale blue eyes widening as the Vampire caught a whiff of a very familiar smell. As the Hufflepuff’s exited the stadium Harry had the impression that someone had called his name but upon turning around he could not see anyone familiar.   
“Harry,” Cedric tagged at his friend’s arm.  
“Hm?” the younger wizard turned to look at him.  
“Come on, your parents are waiting,” the older Hufflepuff told him and the smaller teen followed.

XXV  
Music filled the house. The sound of a piano playing haunting melodies from great composers and his very own. The tempo varied, from fast to slow, from happy to depressing. There was chaos in his mind, so many thoughts, a myriad of emotions and this was his outlet. When he finally, hours later, discovered that his fingers were numb and his head not any better, Orfeus stopped short and let his head drop onto the keys.  
“Damn it,” he muttered.  
The Vampire could not concentrate. Not since attending Lorcan’s concert. He had smelled Harry that day, felt the scent of his blood among hundreds of other scents. It had passed through him like an electric current. It had been the end of the concert. He was disguised so none of the audience recognized him; his goal had been to have a good time, not get mobbed. From the moment he caught that familiar scent, his mind had been unable to focus on anything other than the memory of that boy and trying to track him down in that crowd. At some point the Vampire had thought he had spotted the wizard but then missed him in the crowd. He had called out his name; he could not have helped himself. The long years of separation, combined with the life debt he owed, it nearly crippled him to miss the teen. But he had braved it; he still was, even if his thoughts were all over the place. Doubts and fears due to his species were the most prominent thought that put him down. Harry had not been afraid of him then, had willingly allowed for his blood to be taken. But all that could have changed now. He was probably on his third or fourth year among wizards, in Hogwarts, the most light oriented school he knew. It was enough time for his views to be skewed, to start fearing creatures and Vampires and him.  
He sighed again. This whole situation was driving him insane. Why could not things get simple? All he wanted was to find the boy.  
And then what? His traitorous mind demanded.  
Orfeus had no idea how to answer that. 

XXVI  
“Look at me! Look! Yes! Perfect!”  
Harry changed his pose again and the photographer gave a ringing endorsement.  
“That’s it! Dip your head a bit.”  
“I want your feet a bit wider apart… like that!”  
“Smile!”  
“Don’t smile!”  
“Look at me again!”  
Four hours later and a myriad suggestions and orders they were done with the photo shoot. Harry, tired of changing in and out of jeans and shirts collapsed on his chair. His mother was there, looking proud and amused at the whole thing. She passed Harry a bottle of water and the teen emptied it in no time.  
“Glad that’s over,” Harry muttered with a sigh.  
“I told you, you did not need to do this,” Clarissa reminded her son.  
The green eyed teen shrugged. “I wanted to,” he replied. “It’s normally fun, but it’s so hot today…” He eyed the empty bottle and before he could ask for a fresh bottle; one of the assistants, a man in his twenties, showed up with a brand new bottle and a friendly grin his way. Clarissa rolled her eyes when she saw her son checking the guy out.  
“Harry…”  
“I have eyes,” the teen shrugged. “And my hormones are driving me crazy.”  
She smiled. “I know. But choose anyone but Bradley. That guy is a lecherous piece of scum.”  
“Ouch,” green eyed twinkled. “Overprotective much?”  
“No, I just don’t want you to catch anything,” she muttered sullenly. He chuckled and she rolled her eyes. “Never mind me. Go get changed, will you? Or else we might be late for your Mirabelle’s birthday.”  
Harry perked up upon hearing his cousin’s name. She was just turning five and she was the sweetest thing. He hopped to his feet.   
“I’m going,” he told his mother and rushed to get changed.

XXVII  
Orfeus stared. Lorcan caught him staring and quirked an eyebrow.  
“Since when do you watch fashion?” the part Vampire asked.  
The other singer was startled. “What?”  
Lorcan pointed at the television the older male had been so focused on. “Unless you are considering a different career course or fucking one of the models, why would you watch guys and girls walking up and down a catwalk with all sorts of weird outfits on?”  
Orfeus pointed at the screen.   
Lorcan stared. Then he cursed. “No way! Is that…?”  
“Harry Potter,” Orfeus Sanguini stated, his eyes never leaving the teen that was walking the catwalk, wearing leather from top to bottom, looking older than he was supposed to be. It was both a relief and odd seeing him so grown up. That magazine had not been so tangible, but this moving picture of Harry was.  
“The Boy-Who-Lived models for Muggle’s,” Lorcan sounded amused. “I wonder whether the stuffy wizards and witches of Britain know.”  
“Doubtful,” the older Vampire commented.  
“Still, nice looks, a kid, but a pretty one.”  
Orfeus fought to hide a growl. Then Lorcan changed the channel and the matter was soon dropped. Still, the image of Harry would stay with Orfeus for the rest of the day.

XXVIII  
“Harry, are you all packed?” Clarissa asked her son.   
The green eyed wizard was leafing through the album, his trunk packed and ready to go. He was returning to Hogwarts the day after and while he was packed, he did not feel truly ready to go. Clarissa noticed it was one of the albums she had bought lately. The songs were odd, holding something not quite human, not quite of this world. She recalled what Philip had told her; that Harry had known the Vampire that was singing these songs. She was worried, how could she not be? The woman had looked through the books Harry had, both parents had. Everything they had thought a fable or myth came to life just because the boy they had adopted was part of another world, a magical one.  
“This song again?” she asked, a bit amused. The song ‘The Devil in Us’ was playing in the background. Her son had never been a fan boy and seeing him acting like a regular teenager was amusing. She had heard the albums so many times she could actually tell the songs apart and sing the lyrics.  
Harry blushed. “Was it too loud?”  
“Not really, though I think the CD might melt at one point,” Clarissa teased her boy.  
“Yes well…”  
“You never did say how you know this man… Vampire,” Clarissa said as he walked further in the room. “I am surprised you don’t have posters up too,” she added.  
“I’m not a fan boy,” Harry denied.  
She just kissed his forehead and smiled at the frown on his face and the way he leaned closer at the contact. He really was a delightful child, ready to cuddle with her and so loving.   
“If you say so, love,” she agreed. “Now, I hadn’t had the time to cook so… how would you like take out?”  
“Pizza?” Harry used puppy eyes to bend her to his will.  
She laughed and agreed on the condition he also ate salad.  
“Mum!” Harry faked a whine but the smile on his face said it all.   
“Come on, son, lest you want Philip ordering for the both of us.”  
Harry grimaced and hurried after her.

XXIX  
“There you are!”   
Susan, Hannah and Harry looked up from their game of exploding snap. All three fourth years had smudges and singed eyebrows and Cedric grinned at the sight of them.  
“Hello Cedric,” the girls greeted and Harry waved at the older teen.   
“Harry was telling us about the concert,” Hannah commented.   
“I wish I could come,” Susan bemoaned the fact that she had not gone. “You guys were so lucky…”  
“Never mind the concert, has any of you seen Cho?”  
Three identical, mischievous grins met Cedric, who groaned.  
“Guys…” he tried but the younger teens started teasing him about his girlfriend.  
Harry finally took pity on him. “We haven’t seen her but I have seen her best friend a few compartments down, near the rest room,” he told his older friend who thanked him and went in search of his girlfriend.  
“I still can’t believe you are friends,” Susan commented.  
Harry blinked. “Why not?”  
Hannah and Susan shared a look before they first answered the teen. “Well… He’s much older.”  
The green eyed wizard shrugged. “I’m used to being around older people than me.”  
“Well yes, but you get along with all Houses too,” Susan pointed out.  
“I never really understood the point of being aggressive to other students because their robes hold another colour and a different crest,” Harry said. “It’s stupid, I guess. Growing up, I never had many friends.” The Dursley’s had made sure of that. “My new parents were wonderful but they could not help me there.” it did not help that by modelling and being around his mother’s colleagues he never got to spend time with kids his age. Sure, he went to school, had tentative friendships with the kids there, but nothing deep, no one got too close; Harry would not let them.   
“It makes sense,” Hannah nodded.  
“Well, isolating three quarters of the school does sound stupid,” Susan agreed.  
“Glad you see it my way,” Harry told the two witches.


	4. The Competition From Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

XXX  
“Are they crazy?” Blaise was muttering. It was the first day they met since Headmaster Dumbledore had announced that Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament. He was not the only one who was bothered by such a dangerous tournament taking place on the grounds, but he was part of the minority. Most of the kids looked excited. A certain green eyed wizard that was accompanying him to study looked like he agreed completely with him.  
“We are all a bit crazy,” Harry reminded his Slytherin friend. “After three years of intrigue we are still back,” he pointed out, making the Italian teen laugh.  
“True Harry, but I’m glad some of us have some self preservation.”  
The Hufflepuff sighed. “Tell me about it,” he muttered. “Cedric wants to put his name forward.”  
Blaise winced. “I thought he would be smarter.”  
Harry shrugged. “I don’t want to see him hurt you know? Even if there wasn’t an age limit I would never join.”  
“Like I said, smart. Now let’s stop talking about the world and focus on this,” he said and pointed at their potion books.  
The green eyed teen groaned. “Fine, fine,” he said and they got to work.

XXXI  
“Harry Potter.”  
All noise stopped. The excitement that had built when the three first names were announced to the student body of the three most prominent European schools was suddenly shattered and hundreds of eyes turned to the Hufflepuff table for the second time during the evening. Students, teachers and ministry officials alike stared at the Boy Who Lived.   
As for Harry, the green eyed teen was frozen in his seat, unable to move. One thought kept going through his head, that this could not be happening, just could not. Harry felt Justin at his side, offering his warm presence and support. The rest of his Housemates looked frozen with shock. Finally, Susan helped the shocked teen to his feet and nudged him towards the side chamber.  
''Go,'' she urged him and he went, barely moving one foot in front of the other.   
When he finally reached the chamber the chosen Champions turned around and stared at him.  
''Harry?'' Cedric asked the younger teen. He took in just how shaken he looked.  
The Bulgarian, Krum, frowned and made a chair for   
Harry and Delacour and Cedric pushed the green eyed teen to sit.   
''Harry,'' Cedric repeated. ''What's wrong?''  
''I'm the fourth Champion,'' the teen admitted.  
The older teens looked shocked and at first irritated and then Cedric hugged his young friend.  
''It's going to be fine,'' he tried to assure Harry.  
Then the professors came in and Cedric stayed his ground, offering support to the distraught teen. Harry accepted it wholeheartedly; he needed this if he was going to make it through this year. Cedric stood at Harry’s side as the adults argued about whether or not Harry had entered his name, seemingly not seeing the terror that had seized the boy. At least the other two Champions realized it and where shooting glares at the Hogwarts professors and even their own Headmasters when they all kept pushing the teen and not really offering a solution to get the boy out of this.  
“Ced I…” Harry whispered but the older teen squeezed him.  
“I know,” Cedric whispered back. “I’m not angry, never angry,” he told the teen, understanding part of Harry’s worry. The young Diggory shot Snape, the primary adult that kept accusing Harry of hoodwinking the Cup and being an attention seeker, a dirty look. “We’ll talk later,” he promised the green eyed youth.   
Harry nodded and hoped they leave this chamber soon. He suddenly felt exhausted and all he wanted was crawl into his bed and just sleep the rest of the year and this blasted Tournament away. 

XXXII  
Orfeus frowned at the Daily Prophet. The news title was glaringly large, declaring to the world that Harry Potter was to be the fourth Triwizard Champion. The Vampire felt his stomach drop. Something was seriously wrong here. He knew the parameters for the Triwizard Tournament and this was not supposed to happen. The mere thought that his green eyes was going to be part of such a brutal Tournament made the stolen blood that flooded his veins boil and freeze at the same time, something coiling in his gut, something he had not felt in years, an ominous feeling. Worry and dread for the future, for Harry, about how he was going to be any help for him. He never noticed how he tore the newspaper in his hands, and how he drew blood by digging his nails in his flesh. He had to do something, help somehow, and he had no idea how to start.   
He stood, too agitated to sit still. He started pacing, trying to come up with a plan, any plan, to find out what course of action to take. He could hardly contact the teen himself via mail, much less walk up to the Scottish castle to see him. He needed a strategy and he was good at forming plans. But first, he needed all the clues. He was lucky in that regard in a way. The Vampires knew the Death Eaters were stirring. Whispers of a creature that kept possessing snakes and Muggle’s, making its way from the forests of Albania and all the way to Britain. They were certain that this wretched creature was none other than the Dark Lord. What they still needed to know was who was helping the dark wizard, where he was hiding, in what state he was and how they could snuff him before he was back to full power or, if their suspicions were right, get a new body. And he would find out, anything to help the one he owed his continued existence to. He had made a promise and he would keep it.

XXXIII  
Harry lowered his head, trying to avoid being stared at. Justin noticed and offered support by touching their arms together. The night before the entire Hufflepuff House had gathered together, along with their Head of House. Cedric had been at Harry's side the whole time Sprout explained what had happened.   
Yes, Harry would be competing in the Tournament. His name came out of the Cup; it was a binding contract and he had to complete it or face the consequences.  
No, he had never entered his name as no one could cross the Age Line. But someone had set him up, possibly to kill him. This one had sobered the Hufflepuff’s and had the first years ready to cry.  
Yes, Hufflepuff had two Champions, but they represented Hogwarts as a whole. That meant they would stick together, play a clean game and try and survive.  
“Getting alive and in one piece is the first and foremost prize in this medieval practice,” the Herbology Professor had said as she ended her speech. “Play to live. If you win, then so be it. Am I clear?”   
Both Cedric and Harry had nodded but that was last night. This morning he felt scared. He usually never paid any mind to whatever the rest of the school thought of him. Cedric tapped his shoulder and the green eyed wizard turned to look at the older teen.  
“Where’s your mind travelling?” he asked his younger friend. “Zabini was talking to you.”  
Harry blinked. Then he noticed the tall boy in Slytherin robes that looked both worried and relieved.  
“Day dreaming Harry?” Blaise asked. “Budge over,” he ordered. It was not unusual for him to eat at the Hufflepuff table or Harry to visit his, but the fourth champion was nothing if not smart so he could understand the gesture for what it was.  
“Room for one more?” Neville asked, looming nearby as well.  
“I heard the pancakes are great,” Luna Lovegood, who was a year younger than him, commented, hanging from Neville’s elbow, a dreamy smile on her face.  
“Harry’s a bit sleep deprived so he’s slow to react,” Justin said on behalf of his friend.   
“There are lots of seats,” Susan added.  
Harry’s friends took seats as close to Harry as they could. Breakfast may have not started well for Harry, but it ended great.  
“Just know you’re not alone,” Neville had told him before they parted to go to their respective classes.  
“I won’t forget,” the green eyed wizard replied.  
“Good,” Neville stated.

XXXIV  
Clarissa could only stare ahead, thoughts running through her head. She and Philip had worried about Harry. Discovering he was a hero in the magical world, some sort of a messiah to them. They had been dreading what could happen since all the incidents in his past years and now those fears were coming to life. The articles in the Prophet were sensational and one had to read between the lines to learn what was really going on. They had written to Harry and the boy had a lot to say about the Tournament, the Champions, the schools. According to the green eyed teen, Cedric, who was also one of the Champions, and the entire Hufflepuff House were supportive of Harry. All his friends were supportive of the raven haired boy and protective of him. The foreign Champions were also accommodating, understanding that the teen had been set up. The why and the who were still unknown but Harry had admitted in his letter that he had his suspicions about this situation.  
Philip sighed. “He really can’t stay out of trouble,” he said fondly.  
“He reminds me of someone else I know,” Clarissa stared at him.  
“There’s no way my luck jumped to him,” the doctor protested. They shared a smile but it was forced, their worry prevailing.  
“He will be fine, won’t he?” she asked her husband.  
“He’s our Harry, of course he will be.”

XXXV  
Harry shuddered. Near him, his circle of friends seemed amused. Blaise saw him shuddering yet again and a snort of laughter escaped. The rest followed, laughing out loud, making Harry sigh and groan.  
“Guys!” he complained.  
“And girls,” Susan paused her laughter long enough to correct him and then went back to being amused at his expense.  
“And girls,” Harry said with a sigh. “It’s not funny.”  
“I think it is,” Cedric told the youth. “You made Rita Skeeter cry.”  
The group dissolved into laughter and Harry joined them. It had been funny, admittedly. They had checked the wands a bit earlier. Ollivander had been called to test the wands of all four champions. The timing could have been better since Harry had been in Snape’s class at the time. Upon arriving at the room for the weighing of the wands, the reporter there, plus her photographer, had tried to get Harry alone and interview him. If there was one thing Harry had learned from his mother, it was how to bend the press to his will, talk to them and have them post what he wanted. She had started doing that, with the help of one of her reporter friends just in case Harry needed it, both because he was the Boy-Who-Lived in the magical world and because of the line of work he was following. So he gently denied the private interview at first. When Skeeter insisted and none of the adults around came to his help, Harry took the situation in his own hands. He knew how to push and what to say. He started giving Skeeter a dressing down, starting from her lack of professionalism, ending on a much harsher tone with her looks and the utter worthlessness of her work. He dressed up the insults with kinder words, but the harsh intent was the same. And when she gave him a look that promised retribution, he kindly informed her that he was the Potter Heir and Heir Black and owned part of the papers and magazines she worked for.   
“One foot out of line Mrs.,” Harry had been smiling at the time, “And I’ll ruin you.”  
That comment had the adults staring as Skeeter practically packed her bags and fled the room. That scene Cedric had retold to their friends.  
“I knew you had a mean streak,” Blaise commented.  
“I hate being mean, but she did not seem to get politeness and manners. Worse yet, she acted as if I was the only person in the room!” Harry complained. “Cedric is the Hogwarts Champion. I was entered to die.”  
“You are not going to,” Susan insisted.  
“How did Krum act?” Neville asked.  
“Vindicated,” Cedric replied. “And amused.”  
Harry was nodding. “He told me that Skeeter was vile and had tried to get him involved in a scandal just before the Quidditch World Cup started.”  
“Fleur sounded amused when she described the incident to her friends,” Luna added.  
“Hope this doesn’t come to bite you in the arse,” Blaise told his green eyed friend.  
“It won’t,” Harry stated. “I’ve already sent a letter to the Aurors. Apparently trying to get me alone with her in a closet is a big ‘no-no’.” his smirk had the teens laughing once again.

XXXVI  
“Dragon! Freaking dragon!” Harry yelled in shock.  
Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour sat across from him in one of Hogwarts’ numerous towers. Cedric was with them. He did not look any better, all pale and ready to be sick. Still, he did not beat Harry in shock and terror.  
“Merlin, I’m going to die,” the fourteen year old sighed and dropped his head in his hands.  
The older teens frowned. Fleur was the first to speak up.  
“‘arry, we von’t let you go un... un…” she trailed off trying to find the right word.  
“Unprepared,” Cedric offered.  
“Dere are books I could firecall to you,” Krum added.  
“It takes ten wizards to stun a dragon,” Harry stated. He knew that much.  
The older teen’s shared a look.  
“You’ll make it,” Cedric stated.   
“How?” Harry asked.  
“We’ll figure it out,” the older Hufflepuff vowed. 

XXXVII  
The teens kept their word. They helped Harry, studied with him, helped him expand his knowledge. They were not the only ones who stepped up to support the fourth and unwilling champion. And Dumbledore watched from the sidelines as not only the four houses of his school, but all three European schools slowly but steadily united. It was what he had hoped for even back when he was a student. He watched the group around the green eyed Hufflepuff. It was a day after the First Task. All Champions had performed their best against the dragons, but there was something more impressive about seeing a fourteen year old against one of the large fire breathing creatures. He had known from Minerva and Severus who had stumbled upon one such study date, that the older three Champions had coached Harry. It was a common secret that the kids knew the tasks; Albus had certainly expected it from Karkaroff and Maxime. He had not expected their kids to help his though, and Harry most of all.  
His eyes lingered on the Boy Who Lived. When he had arrived in Hogwarts, he had not been what they had expected, what he expected. After he arrived he had tried to track down the Dursley’s only to find out that Petunia and her husband were in jail, for child abuse and Harry had been adopted by another family. The neighbours had not known anything else about the boy though. And while the blue eyed Headmaster had tracked down the Lloyds he had made no move to actually contact them or ask anything. The couple were usually busy, one being a doctor and the other a career woman. He had, however, paid a visit to their house. Everywhere he looked, pictures of the family, before and after Harry joined them. It was a happy home the teen was growing in and Dumbledore was not going ruin that, he did enough damage by leaving the boy to his mother’s sister in the first place. He was surprised Minerva had not confronted him about it even now.  
“Albus?”  
Think of the she-devil and she will speak.  
“Yes, Minerva?” he asks.  
“Staring at Mr. Potter again?” the cat Animagus asked.  
“Just pondering some things,” he responds.  
“He put on quite a performance yesterday, where he got the idea for calling his broom I don’t know; I was really proud of him,” Minerva says, ignoring how she had been pale and terrified when the dragons started to attack the Hogwarts Champions. “Pomona was scared to death for both her boys,” she said instead.  
“We all were,” Albus replies and leaves it at that.

XXXVIII  
Voldemort is back on British soil.”  
The admission hardly shocked the conclave of Vampires that met in one of Lorcan’s houses in London.  
Xyla had taken the floor, informing them of her findings. “He’s getting stronger by the day.”  
“Do we know where he’s hiding?” Orfeus asked.  
“We are closing in on him,” Xyla admitted. “He used magic the likes of which I have never seen before to… he separated his soul to gain immortality.”  
Orefus hissed in disgust. “Horcruxes,” he spat the world in distaste. It was anathema even for Vampires, that foul piece of magic.  
“No wonder he’s insane,” one of the older Vampires muttered.  
“How many?” Lorcan asked.  
“Too many,” Xyla replied. “We traced his life’s story, not an easy task. Most of the files during World War I and II were destroyed but we managed it,” she said. “Currently my people have managed to track down and destroy several of the soul pieces. One was in Gringotts. The Goblins were surprisingly accommodating for us once they learned why we needed to enter one of their vaults.”  
“How many are left?” Orfeus asked.  
Xyla sighed, as if she were tired. “One was destroyed by Potter, something about the Chamber of Secrets opening a few years back. The strongest of the Horcruxes was destroyed then by Potter. The second was Hufflepuff’s Cup. Two more are in Hogwarts, one is in one of the Black Properties in London, and one is with the Dark Lord. I already wrote to the wizard Harry James Potter for … assistance.”  
Her words caused chaos in the room and in Sanguini’s heart.

XXXIX  
Harry stared at the letter in front of him. He blinked and it was still there. The fine parchment, the dark ink, the crest made of wax, the sign in the bottom.  
Xylanthe Of Glafka, Head Vampyr of the British Conclave  
He knew the name, from books, the papers in the Muggle and magical community. Madam Xyla, the oldest and strongest (politically at least) Vampire in the country and most likely the entire continent. She was basically telling him Voldemort was back, trying to get a body. She was detailed about describing what measures the Dark Lord took to become immortal, she wrote about soul pieces and dark magic, darker than anything he had ever imagined. It was horrific and terrible and made Harry’s skin crawl, but it also explained so many things. Harry was no Ravenclaw but he was smart and liked to observe things. This letter also explained how he came to be in the Tournament. While Madam Xyla offered no substantial evidence as to who had placed Harry’s name in the cup, she offered carefully worded thoughts. It all painted a rather dark picture for the teen. Especially since the Vampires had only found few of the Horcruxes Voldemort had made. The fact that more were in Hogwarts and one was in one of his properties…Harry shuddered in revulsion.  
The Vampires wanted to help. He wanted to live. It was a win-win situation for him. He knew he should have contacted an adult and for a moment or two he wondered why the Vampires were not contacting Dumbledore or the Ministry with the information but he recalled the social status of Vampires was not exactly ideal. So he took a deep breath, picked up his quill and penned back his reply.


	5. The Competition From Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

**XXX**

"Are they crazy?" Blaise was muttering. It was the first day they met since Headmaster Dumbledore had announced that Hogwarts would be hosting the Triwizard Tournament. He was not the only one who was bothered by such a dangerous tournament taking place on the grounds, but he was part of the minority. Most of the kids looked excited. A certain green eyed wizard that was accompanying him to study looked like he agreed completely with him.

"We are all a bit crazy," Harry reminded his Slytherin friend. "After three years of intrigue we are still back," he pointed out, making the Italian teen laugh.

"True Harry, but I'm glad some of us have some self preservation."

The Hufflepuff sighed. "Tell me about it," he muttered. "Cedric wants to put his name forward."

Blaise winced. "I thought he would be smarter."

Harry shrugged. "I don't want to see him hurt you know? Even if there wasn't an age limit I would never join."

"Like I said, smart. Now let's stop talking about the world and focus on this," he said and pointed at their potion books.

The green eyed teen groaned. "Fine, fine," he said and they got to work.

**XXXI**

"Harry Potter."

All noise stopped. The excitement that had built when the three first names were announced to the student body of the three most prominent European schools was suddenly shattered and hundreds of eyes turned to the Hufflepuff table for the second time during the evening. Students, teachers and ministry officials alike stared at the Boy Who Lived.

As for Harry, the green eyed teen was frozen in his seat, unable to move. One thought kept going through his head, that this could not be happening, just could not. Harry felt Justin at his side, offering his warm presence and support. The rest of his Housemates looked frozen with shock. Finally, Susan helped the shocked teen to his feet and nudged him towards the side chamber.

''Go,'' she urged him and he went, barely moving one foot in front of the other.

When he finally reached the chamber the chosen Champions turned around and stared at him.

''Harry?'' Cedric asked the younger teen. He took in just how shaken he looked.

The Bulgarian, Krum, frowned and made a chair for

Harry and Delacour and Cedric pushed the green eyed teen to sit.

''Harry,'' Cedric repeated. ''What's wrong?''

''I'm the fourth Champion,'' the teen admitted.

The older teens looked shocked and at first irritated and then Cedric hugged his young friend.

''It's going to be fine,'' he tried to assure Harry.

Then the professors came in and Cedric stayed his ground, offering support to the distraught teen. Harry accepted it wholeheartedly; he needed this if he was going to make it through this year. Cedric stood at Harry's side as the adults argued about whether or not Harry had entered his name, seemingly not seeing the terror that had seized the boy. At least the other two Champions realized it and where shooting glares at the Hogwarts professors and even their own Headmasters when they all kept pushing the teen and not really offering a solution to get the boy out of this.

"Ced I…" Harry whispered but the older teen squeezed him.

"I know," Cedric whispered back. "I'm not angry, never angry," he told the teen, understanding part of Harry's worry. The young Diggory shot Snape, the primary adult that kept accusing Harry of hoodwinking the Cup and being an attention seeker, a dirty look. "We'll talk later," he promised the green eyed youth.

Harry nodded and hoped they leave this chamber soon. He suddenly felt exhausted and all he wanted was crawl into his bed and just sleep the rest of the year and this blasted Tournament away.

**XXXII**

Orfeus frowned at the  _Daily Prophet_. The news title was glaringly large, declaring to the world that Harry Potter was to be the fourth Triwizard Champion. The Vampire felt his stomach drop. Something was seriously wrong here. He knew the parameters for the Triwizard Tournament and this was not supposed to happen. The mere thought that his green eyes was going to be part of such a brutal Tournament made the stolen blood that flooded his veins boil and freeze at the same time, something coiling in his gut, something he had not felt in years, an ominous feeling. Worry and dread for the future, for Harry, about how he was going to be any help for him. He never noticed how he tore the newspaper in his hands, and how he drew blood by digging his nails in his flesh. He had to do something, help somehow, and he had no idea how to start.

He stood, too agitated to sit still. He started pacing, trying to come up with a plan, any plan, to find out what course of action to take. He could hardly contact the teen himself via mail, much less walk up to the Scottish castle to see him. He needed a strategy and he was good at forming plans. But first, he needed all the clues. He was lucky in that regard in a way. The Vampires knew the Death Eaters were stirring. Whispers of a creature that kept possessing snakes and Muggle's, making its way from the forests of Albania and all the way to Britain. They were certain that this wretched creature was none other than the Dark Lord. What they still needed to know was who was helping the dark wizard, where he was hiding, in what state he was and how they could snuff him before he was back to full power or, if their suspicions were right, get a new body. And he would find out, anything to help the one he owed his continued existence to. He had made a promise and he would keep it.

**XXXIII**

Harry lowered his head, trying to avoid being stared at. Justin noticed and offered support by touching their arms together. The night before the entire Hufflepuff House had gathered together, along with their Head of House. Cedric had been at Harry's side the whole time Sprout explained what had happened.

Yes, Harry would be competing in the Tournament. His name came out of the Cup; it was a binding contract and he had to complete it or face the consequences.

No, he had never entered his name as no one could cross the Age Line. But someone had set him up, possibly to kill him. This one had sobered the Hufflepuff's and had the first years ready to cry.

Yes, Hufflepuff had two Champions, but they represented Hogwarts as a whole. That meant they would stick together, play a clean game and try and survive.

"Getting alive and in one piece is the first and foremost prize in this medieval practice," the Herbology Professor had said as she ended her speech. "Play to live. If you win, then so be it. Am I clear?"

Both Cedric and Harry had nodded but that was last night. This morning he felt scared. He usually never paid any mind to whatever the rest of the school thought of him. Cedric tapped his shoulder and the green eyed wizard turned to look at the older teen.

"Where's your mind travelling?" he asked his younger friend. "Zabini was talking to you."

Harry blinked. Then he noticed the tall boy in Slytherin robes that looked both worried and relieved.

"Day dreaming Harry?" Blaise asked. "Budge over," he ordered. It was not unusual for him to eat at the Hufflepuff table or Harry to visit his, but the fourth champion was nothing if not smart so he could understand the gesture for what it was.

"Room for one more?" Neville asked, looming nearby as well.

"I heard the pancakes are great," Luna Lovegood, who was a year younger than him, commented, hanging from Neville's elbow, a dreamy smile on her face.

"Harry's a bit sleep deprived so he's slow to react," Justin said on behalf of his friend.

"There are lots of seats," Susan added.

Harry's friends took seats as close to Harry as they could. Breakfast may have not started well for Harry, but it ended great.

"Just know you're not alone," Neville had told him before they parted to go to their respective classes.

"I won't forget," the green eyed wizard replied.

"Good," Neville stated.

**XXXIV**

Clarissa could only stare ahead, thoughts running through her head. She and Philip had worried about Harry. Discovering he was a hero in the magical world, some sort of a messiah to them. They had been dreading what could happen since all the incidents in his past years and now those fears were coming to life. The articles in the  _Prophet_  were sensational and one had to read between the lines to learn what was really going on. They had written to Harry and the boy had a lot to say about the Tournament, the Champions, the schools. According to the green eyed teen, Cedric, who was also one of the Champions, and the entire Hufflepuff House were supportive of Harry. All his friends were supportive of the raven haired boy and protective of him. The foreign Champions were also accommodating, understanding that the teen had been set up. The why and the who were still unknown but Harry had admitted in his letter that he had his suspicions about this situation.

Philip sighed. "He really can't stay out of trouble," he said fondly.

"He reminds me of someone else I know," Clarissa stared at him.

"There's no way my luck jumped to him," the doctor protested. They shared a smile but it was forced, their worry prevailing.

"He will be fine, won't he?" she asked her husband.

"He's our Harry, of course he will be."

**XXXV**

Harry shuddered. Near him, his circle of friends seemed amused. Blaise saw him shuddering yet again and a snort of laughter escaped. The rest followed, laughing out loud, making Harry sigh and groan.

"Guys!" he complained.

"And girls," Susan paused her laughter long enough to correct him and then went back to being amused at his expense.

"And girls," Harry said with a sigh. "It's not funny."

"I think it is," Cedric told the youth. "You made Rita Skeeter cry."

The group dissolved into laughter and Harry joined them. It had been funny, admittedly. They had checked the wands a bit earlier. Ollivander had been called to test the wands of all four champions. The timing could have been better since Harry had been in Snape's class at the time. Upon arriving at the room for the weighing of the wands, the reporter there, plus her photographer, had tried to get Harry alone and interview him. If there was one thing Harry had learned from his mother, it was how to bend the press to his will, talk to them and have them post what he wanted. She had started doing that, with the help of one of her reporter friends just in case Harry needed it, both because he was the Boy-Who-Lived in the magical world and because of the line of work he was following. So he gently denied the private interview at first. When Skeeter insisted and none of the adults around came to his help, Harry took the situation in his own hands. He knew how to push and what to say. He started giving Skeeter a dressing down, starting from her lack of professionalism, ending on a much harsher tone with her looks and the utter worthlessness of her work. He dressed up the insults with kinder words, but the harsh intent was the same. And when she gave him a look that promised retribution, he kindly informed her that he was the Potter Heir and Heir Black and owned part of the papers and magazines she worked for.

"One foot out of line Mrs.," Harry had been smiling at the time, "And I'll ruin you."

That comment had the adults staring as Skeeter practically packed her bags and fled the room. That scene Cedric had retold to their friends.

"I knew you had a mean streak," Blaise commented.

"I hate being mean, but she did not seem to get politeness and manners. Worse yet, she acted as if I was the only person in the room!" Harry complained. "Cedric is the Hogwarts Champion. I was entered to die."

"You are not going to," Susan insisted.

"How did Krum act?" Neville asked.

"Vindicated," Cedric replied. "And amused."

Harry was nodding. "He told me that Skeeter was vile and had tried to get him involved in a scandal just before the Quidditch World Cup started."

"Fleur sounded amused when she described the incident to her friends," Luna added.

"Hope this doesn't come to bite you in the arse," Blaise told his green eyed friend.

"It won't," Harry stated. "I've already sent a letter to the Aurors. Apparently trying to get me alone with her in a closet is a big 'no-no'." his smirk had the teens laughing once again.

**XXXVI**

"Dragon! Freaking dragon!" Harry yelled in shock.

Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour sat across from him in one of Hogwarts' numerous towers. Cedric was with them. He did not look any better, all pale and ready to be sick. Still, he did not beat Harry in shock and terror.

"Merlin, I'm going to die," the fourteen year old sighed and dropped his head in his hands.

The older teens frowned. Fleur was the first to speak up.

"'arry, we von't let you go un... un…" she trailed off trying to find the right word.

"Unprepared," Cedric offered.

"Dere are books I could firecall to you," Krum added.

"It takes ten wizards to stun a dragon," Harry stated. He knew that much.

The older teen's shared a look.

"You'll make it," Cedric stated.

"How?" Harry asked.

"We'll figure it out," the older Hufflepuff vowed.

**XXXVII**

The teens kept their word. They helped Harry, studied with him, helped him expand his knowledge. They were not the only ones who stepped up to support the fourth and unwilling champion. And Dumbledore watched from the sidelines as not only the four houses of his school, but all three European schools slowly but steadily united. It was what he had hoped for even back when he was a student. He watched the group around the green eyed Hufflepuff. It was a day after the First Task. All Champions had performed their best against the dragons, but there was something more impressive about seeing a fourteen year old against one of the large fire breathing creatures. He had known from Minerva and Severus who had stumbled upon one such study date, that the older three Champions had coached Harry. It was a common secret that the kids knew the tasks; Albus had certainly expected it from Karkaroff and Maxime. He had not expected their kids to help his though, and Harry most of all.

His eyes lingered on the Boy Who Lived. When he had arrived in Hogwarts, he had not been what they had expected, what he expected. After he arrived he had tried to track down the Dursley's only to find out that Petunia and her husband were in jail, for child abuse and Harry had been adopted by another family. The neighbours had not known anything else about the boy though. And while the blue eyed Headmaster had tracked down the Lloyds he had made no move to actually contact them or ask anything. The couple were usually busy, one being a doctor and the other a career woman. He had, however, paid a visit to their house. Everywhere he looked, pictures of the family, before and after Harry joined them. It was a happy home the teen was growing in and Dumbledore was not going ruin that, he did enough damage by leaving the boy to his mother's sister in the first place. He was surprised Minerva had not confronted him about it even now.

"Albus?"

Think of the she-devil and she will speak.

"Yes, Minerva?" he asks.

"Staring at Mr. Potter again?" the cat Animagus asked.

"Just pondering some things," he responds.

"He put on quite a performance yesterday, where he got the idea for calling his broom I don't know; I was really proud of him," Minerva says, ignoring how she had been pale and terrified when the dragons started to attack the Hogwarts Champions. "Pomona was scared to death for both her boys," she said instead.

"We all were," Albus replies and leaves it at that.

**XXXVIII**

Voldemort is back on British soil."

The admission hardly shocked the conclave of Vampires that met in one of Lorcan's houses in London.

Xyla had taken the floor, informing them of her findings. "He's getting stronger by the day."

"Do we know where he's hiding?" Orfeus asked.

"We are closing in on him," Xyla admitted. "He used magic the likes of which I have never seen before to… he separated his soul to gain immortality."

Orefus hissed in disgust. "Horcruxes," he spat the world in distaste. It was anathema even for Vampires, that foul piece of magic.

"No wonder he's insane," one of the older Vampires muttered.

"How many?" Lorcan asked.

"Too many," Xyla replied. "We traced his life's story, not an easy task. Most of the files during World War I and II were destroyed but we managed it," she said. "Currently my people have managed to track down and destroy several of the soul pieces. One was in Gringotts. The Goblins were surprisingly accommodating for us once they learned why we needed to enter one of their vaults."

"How many are left?" Orfeus asked.

Xyla sighed, as if she were tired. "One was destroyed by Potter, something about the Chamber of Secrets opening a few years back. The strongest of the Horcruxes was destroyed then by Potter. The second was Hufflepuff's Cup. Two more are in Hogwarts, one is in one of the Black Properties in London, and one is with the Dark Lord. I already wrote to the wizard Harry James Potter for … assistance."

Her words caused chaos in the room and in Sanguini's heart.

**XXXIX**

Harry stared at the letter in front of him. He blinked and it was still there. The fine parchment, the dark ink, the crest made of wax, the sign in the bottom.

_Xylanthe Of Glafka, Head Vampyr of the British Conclave_

He knew the name, from books, the papers in the Muggle and magical community. Madam Xyla, the oldest and strongest (politically at least) Vampire in the country and most likely the entire continent. She was basically telling him Voldemort was back, trying to get a body. She was detailed about describing what measures the Dark Lord took to become immortal, she wrote about soul pieces and dark magic, darker than anything he had ever imagined. It was horrific and terrible and made Harry's skin crawl, but it also explained so many things. Harry was no Ravenclaw but he was smart and liked to observe things. This letter also explained how he came to be in the Tournament. While Madam Xyla offered no substantial evidence as to who had placed Harry's name in the cup, she offered carefully worded thoughts. It all painted a rather dark picture for the teen. Especially since the Vampires had only found few of the Horcruxes Voldemort had made. The fact that more were in Hogwarts and one was in one of his properties…Harry shuddered in revulsion.

The Vampires wanted to help. He wanted to live. It was a win-win situation for him. He knew he should have contacted an adult and for a moment or two he wondered why the Vampires were not contacting Dumbledore or the Ministry with the information but he recalled the social status of Vampires was not exactly ideal. So he took a deep breath, picked up his quill and penned back his reply.

* * *

**To be continued…**


	6. A Champion In Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

**L**

They broke the surface to the lake and the spell that had been on Blaise broke. In the distance and up above them, the crowd of spectators cheered or booed accordingly but Harry could not care less. He was no longer in the dark depths of the lake away from the Merpeople, the Grindylow’s and the other dangers lurking in there. But there was still a road for them to cover till they were on dry land, completely safe. They got their bearings and started the long and hard way back. The green eyed teen was tired and Blaise was sluggish from being unconscious.

Right after Harry managed to get his hostage halfway to the shore, Krum came out of the depths of the lake with Granger tightly held in his arms. Cedric was not far behind though.

“Harry?” Blaise was spluttering and shivering as Harry tried to keep them floating and move them towards land where blankets and warmth waited for them.

“I’ve got you,” Harry told his friend.

“Are you okay?” the Slytherin asked.

“Fine… Just tired,” Harry panted.

Krum swam past them and Harry did not mind. Cedric caught up too. Harry was the last to reach the shore; Fleur was already out, sans her hostage though. Their school nurse rushed to meet them and Cedric, after checking Cho was fine, also approached Harry, worried about the younger teen.

“Everything’s fine,” the green eyed wizard insisted.

“Just one more task,” Blaise tried to reassure his friend, but at the same time all of them dreaded the third and last task.

**LI**

Clarissa hugged her son to her and just would not let go. Harry let her, hugging her back. Philip had them both in his embrace. It was a touching finally moment and a bit sad at the same time as the main reason they were all clustered together was fear. The two parents had been afraid for Harry’s safety. Unable to go to Hogwarts and see the tasks they had only been able to follow them through newspapers and Harry’s own, lengthy and rather detailed letters. It had not been enough though. Now that Harry was home for Easter, he was at least safe and they could keep an eye on him, for now.

“I booked us a table,” Philip told his son. “Your favourite restaurant. Call it a mini celebration, son.”

“Thank you,” the teen smiled.

“And you can tell us all about school, letters just don’t cover everything,” Clarissa tells her boy.

The teen is happy to comply, eager to spend time with them, forget about the castle and the deadly tournament and the third task which keeps getting nearer.

**LII**

Harry got his second letter from Xylanthe Of Glafka two days into his Easter break. Aside of informing him about the destruction of the Horcruxes, the Vampire was telling him they had pin pointed Voldemort’s location. That they were close to taking the Dark Lord down once and for all and about the small hitch in their plans. Thus the invitation the female Vampire was extending towards Harry and his parents. It was not an invitation to a remote location and that had settled the teen’s fears just a bit. No, they were meeting at a restaurant in London. Philip and Clarissa had been worried about this.

“Vampires?” Clarissa demanded when he first told them what he had done during the Triwizard Ball.

“I told you about the soul pieces, mum,” Harry sighed.

“Yes, but those books of yours were quite adamant that Vampires are dangerous to deal with,” Philip pointed out. “And while you said you have met one before, it still does not settle my mind. This Dark Lord was powerful then and he had Vampires on his side. What assurances you have they are not working with him and that they won’t turn on you the moment you let your guard down?” the doctor asked his son. He and Clarissa had made a point to read all of Harry’s books after the boy used them. They had stated quite logically that they wanted to learn the culture and history of the community their boy was part of, be supportive and not ignorant about Harry’s heritage. It was a double edged sword at times. “We worry Harry. What with the Tournament and all the trouble you have faced in just four years in that school.”

“I trust them more than the Headmaster or the Ministry,” Harry admitted to his parents. “The Vampires somehow tracked Voldemort down. They actually plan to take him out because he’s causing trouble to their plans. You know the Wizengamot is just looking for an excuse to take away all their prerogatives and throw them back to creature status. They are constantly with one foot inside the community and one foot out and they are sick of it.” Harry shrugged. “As of yet, I’m the only one who has not tried to ban them from the wizarding world, use them or exploit them to further my agenda.”

“Harry,” Clarissa smiled with amusement. “You don’t have an agenda.”

“Exactly,” Harry replied. “That made me their best ally. And since I want Voldemort dead for one and never returning, they’re are the best allies I’ve got. The Ministry are a bunch of morons…”

“Harry…” Philip warned, mostly because Clarissa was frowning at her son’s language.

“Sorry, sorry, but you get my point, right?” the fourteen year old asked.

“We do,” the doctor agreed. “What do you want from us?”

“Just… support. The invitation included the two of you and I thought that I should at least tell you,” the teen eyed them from behind thick black lashes.

His parents sighed.

“I thank the deities every day that you at least have some sense in that head of yours,” Clarissa mused, a smile on her face. “Now, what should we wear? Let me see the invitation. Mm, yes, I know this restaurant. Slick but casual then.”

“What is that insistence of yours that we always dress according to the situation?” Philip asked his wife.

She glared. “It’s not like I make us wear colour coordinated clothes,” she responded and the two males of the family sighed with relief.

**LIII**

Orfeus was feeling the magic of the life debt tagging at him, the magic that animated his cold body, the magic he still possessed after centuries of being turned. What Xylanthe was announcing to her group of confidants and warriors come generals was horrifying.

“Are you certain?” Lorcan, more human and more expressive than them spoke first.

“It is confirmed,” Xyla stated in a cold tone. “Tom Marvolo Riddle went so far as to make a living Horcrux.”

“The snake is really one then,” Orfeus said.

The female Vampire nodded. “But… not just the snake.”

“Seven times? He ripped apart his own soul seven bloody times,” Lorcan looked sick.

“What was the next vessel?” another Vampire, with exotic features and purple eyes asked. Xyla looked at her companion for the last millennium. Orfeus watched the pair, Xyla and Malik; they had always been together as long as he had known them, even before they had all relocated to stay in the UK for the majority of their years, seeking to make themselves a name, establish themselves on the top of the hierarchy.

“Another snake?” Malik asked. “A magical creature?”

“A wizard,” Xyla replied, voice grave.

Orfeus felt sick, a feeling he had not felt in centuries. “Harry Potter.”

The others looked at him.

Xyla nodded. “Harry Potter, I felt the darkness when I met him at Hogwarts.”

**LIV**

There was something ominous about meeting the leader of Vampires, for the UK at least, in a nice restaurant with salmon pink walls and flowery carpets. The family of three entered and the Vampires stood; all six of them. Lorcan d'Eath was there, dressed in nice slacks and a shirt, unlike his usual leather and silk. Xyla was dressed in a pencil skirt in white; unlike the dramatic dress she wore the last time he had seen her. Harry recognized one more face in that room, Orfeus, who was at Xyla's side, looking imposing and handsome and like a prince in Muggle casual clothes. Harry was glad his mother had insisted on nice clothes, anything less might have been an insult.

''Harry.'' the female Vampire, the only one in the room greeted him with a smile full of fangs.

To their credit, Harry's parents just sucked in their breaths, looking composed and trying not to gape or stare at the species they had thought fictional before meeting their son.

''Madam, nice to see you again. I'd like to introduce my family. My mother Clarissa and my father Philip.'' there was no need for full names; the Vampires used aliases and more likely already knew all information about the green eyed wizard's family.

''Harry told us of your... Arrangement,'' the Muggle woman commented. ''Thank you for your help keeping him safe.''

Xyla's smile widened. ''You're welcome, Clarissa. Now, I am told this restaurant produces miracle dishes and I bet you are hungry.''

''What about you?'' Harry asked. ''Our foods are bland to you, right?''

''Usually, yes, but rare fillets are nice,'' Lorcan allowed. ''The wine as well.''

''Considering there are days I want my steaks with a bit of blood I understand,'' Philip commented.

They sat at a table, Harry between Xyla and Lorcan. Clarissa found herself between Lorcan and Orfeus while Philip was on the female Vampire's other side.

Throughout the appetizers and the first course the conversation was varied and rather pleasant if not generic, starting from the food and not limited there but expanding to include music, work, cars and travelling. It did not have that war council kind of feeling, in fact it was, almost, like an ordinary dinner and that ominous feeling Harry had when he entered the establishment did not linger over them for a while. What Harry in particular tried during that time was not to stare at Orfeus more or less than he did with others. It was bad enough that vampires had keen senses; he did not want to give them any ammunition to use against him. And it seemed that the vampire he had danced with at the Yule Ball was of the same mind.

It was during the second course, right before dessert that the subject of their meeting was touched again.

''Harry, is your family aware of the particulars of your situation?'' Madam Xyla asked.

Harry had not even touched his plate.

''You mean about a certain Dark Lord and his safety clauses to immortality?''

''You can use the word 'Horcruxes','' the female Vampire commented. ''the staff in this establishment are all of them Muggle’s with no ties to the magical world.”

“There is no such thing as being too careful,” the green eyed wizard responded.

“A bit paranoid,” Lorcan teased.

“Not when people are really out to get you,” Harry replied. “Then it’s being cautious and prudent.”

“I stand corrected,” the half vampire nodded at the teen.

“Did you destroy those… things?” Clarissa asked. “Harry should be safe… well, safer at least now, right?”

“Yes and no,” Orfeus said. “The soul pieces are destroyed, all but two. We are close to acquiring Nagini…”

“His snake,” Philip recalled and the vampire nodded.

“What’s the last one?” Harry asked.

Here the Vampires looked grave, Orfeus more than the rest of them. Immortal eyes were pinned on him. Clarissa and Philip seemed confused, but Harry, staring into bottomless eyes like Orfeus and Xyla’s, eyes that had seen wars and empires rise and fall, he just knew.

“Is it possible…” the teen’s throat constricted, his heart not wanting to put words to what his mind had just realized. He worried his lip and tried again, not once his green orbs leaving Madam Xyla’s marble like face. “Is it doable for a human, like say, a child, to become a soul vessel?” he finally asked.

Clarissa and Philip turned to look at their adopted son with horrified looks on their faces.

“I am sorry to say such a depraved act is actually possible,” the oldest vampire of the group told Harry, her eyes showing a bit of regret.

“Are you telling us…?” Philip spoke first but he felt too upset to go on.  His hands clenched and he closed his mouth, unable to say anything else. Clarissa looked so pale that Harry was worried she might lose her senses.

“Harry being a vessel is the problem,” Xyla admitted. “But you have yet to hear the solution.”

Those were hardly comforting yet somehow the teen felt that he could breathe again.

The solution to their problem came over dessert, something sweet to soften the bitterness of the news they had received previously.

“How do you destroy those things?” Clarissa asked. “Harry mentioned some kind of fire…”

“Fiendfire,” Malik offered. “That was what we used to get rid of the other objects.”

“The tiara,” Harry recalled.

“And the cup we found and a locket, courtesy of you again,” Xyla told the teen.

“Locket?” Philip asked.

“From the Black house in London,” Harry told his father.

The Muggle’s shuddered.

“Horrible place that one,” Clarissa muttered.

“But Fiendfire is uncontrollable and …”

“We are not using that spell on you,” Malik stated, his mate was nodding.

“Basilisk venom then,” Harry said.

“Not even that,” Xyla replied.

Harry looked lost.

“A simple curse,” the female Vampire said. “Two words, _Avada Kedavra_ is enough.”

“You plan to use that Unforgivable on my son!” Clarissa hissed, not caring that she was glaring at a creature stronger, older and deadlier than her.

“We won’t,” Malik stated, unfazed by the woman’s rage. “Voldemort will.”

That statement made Harry’s blood freeze. “What?” wariness entered his emerald green eyes.

Xyla smirked. “Well, there is a plan young wizard.”

The sneaky part of Harry that nearly got him into Slytherin made him stop from overreacting and ask the vampire what she meant. Xyla’s smile widened and the dinner did turn into a war room then as plans upon plans fell on the table and dessert was the perfect ending to that night.

**LV**

It had taken a lot of thought for Harry to do this. His mind weighing all the words the Vampires had said when a few nights ago they had planned to end the reign of the dark lord Voldemort before it began again. They had a place and approximate time when that would happen. Assurances upon assurances were given to the teen, Clarissa and Philip that all would turn out fine, that all aspects were covered, how everything would work out fine. Harry, ever since the time with his biological relatives, he had had a pessimistic outlook on life, an outlook he suppressed because just being around Clarissa and Philip made him feel happier, more hopeful. But the pessimist remained. So here he was, in front of a law firm Hannah had recommended. ‘ _Abbot and Abbot_ ’ was a law firm of two partners, a wizard and a Muggleborn who had met in Hogwarts some thirty years ago and later partnered up. He did not tell anyone he came here, not wanting to worry his parents or his friends, even his allies. Though the wizard believed that at least the Vampires would understand the necessity of such an act and might even appreciate the planning.

“Mister Potter?” Hannah’s cousin greeted him, his Muggleborn partner a few feet away.

“Gentlemen,” the teen said. “I’m here to sign my will.”

The two adults looked grave but understanding. A Goblin from Gringotts was there with a detailed list of Harry’s assets. It was a long and gruelling process that added to the difficulty of the already morbid task the teen had set himself to do.

**LVI**

Cedric frowned at Harry. They were back in Hogwarts and the youth looked like a different man. A bit distanced, a bit more thoughtful. The teen feared the beginning had been at the Yule Ball, when Harry had disappeared for a while but he could not ask the younger teen. And he worried. Justin and Harry’s other close friends worried as well and had sought out Diggory and badgered him with questions but no one had an answer.

“It’s like he’s waiting, preparing for something,” Blaise had told the Hufflepuff before shrugging and walking away.

“But for what?” Cedric kept asking himself.

Blaise shook his head. “I have no idea. And I don’t think he will tell us if we ask.” They hoped at least but deep down they knew Harry was more likely to keep quiet about his troubles. Snooping around was not an option either as the green eyed teen would see it as an invasion of his privacy. So his friends set out to play their usual waiting game, hoping for the best. Harry’s peer group was not the only group in Hogwarts that noticed that something was up with the teen. The same pair of blue eyes that had followed the Boy Who Lived as he walked the hallways of the school since the age of eleven.

Albus Dumbledore had an active interest in the prophesized child. He had known James and Lily and he had viewed them with affection, not just as their former Headmaster but as a friend and a mentor. Those same feelings had transferred to their son, the same green eyed baby that Lily would bring to Order meetings where the Prewit Twins would take on the task of entertaining the newborn. Albus had held Harry numerous times those days and since James and Lily’s parents had been gone by then he had been the only remotely grandfatherly figure. There were still some pictures of him holding Harry while he slept. And then came the much dreaded feeling Albus had whenever he thought of that baby boy and the mature teen he turned out to be. Albus was not as cut off from the Muggle community as most people would think. He got the Muggle papers regularly and he had seen the articles of Harry lost in the woods. He had been about to join the search when the Muggle authorities found the boy. And then the other, horrible truth came to light, Harry’s home life. And all of Dumbledore’s failings came to light, his biggest one since his sister’s death. The abuse and neglect Harry suffered at the hands of Petunia, the aunt that was supposed to love him. Albus felt horrified and sick that his actions, however well meant his intentions had been, it seemed that what came out of them was horrific. He was often told that he trusted too much, to an almost naïve level. His brother and even Gellert had been the strongest voices declaring that. They were once again right.

The aged Headmaster had found Harry in the hospital and he had been ready to whisk the boy away into the magical world. He no longer cared if he would get a big head, as long as he had a happy childhood, when he noticed that man and his wife. He learned their names, Philip and Clarissa. Both Muggle’s, both kindly souls, both incredibly taken with Harry. He stood back and watched as they got closer to the boy. He watched as Harry was adopted and his new family tried to heal all his wounds. He was glad and relieved that those two people had done what he failed to do when he trusted Petunia, despite all the warnings Minerva gave him. He let Harry stay with his adoptive parents because he knew they were a family and he was not going to ruin that, he was not about to offer Harry one more reason to resent him. He had put him in enough danger over the years, when he hoped to save Quirrell from Voldemort’s position, when he hoped to stop the monster himself, when he failed to realize Sirius was innocent, when the boys name came out of the Goblet of Fire. He would not interfere in Harry’s life but he would do his best to help the teen grow up and live his life, it was the least he could do.

**LVII**

The hedges were tall, taller than the first time Bagman introduced the arena for the Third Task to the four champions, making the labyrinth covering the Quidditch Pitch that looked ruined. Cedric was more scandalized than Harry about the sacrilege committed and the green eyed wizard just knew the Quidditch fanatics would bitch and moan about this when they found out, what had happened. Now they stood at the entrance, wands at the ready. The pitch was surrounded by the stands where the spectators sat, eager to see the last Task.

“Harry?” Cedric had Harry’s attention.

“Hm?”

“Are you okay? You have been absentminded,” the older Hufflepuff asked, concerned.

Harry smiled. “I’m fine.” he noticed that Fleur and Viktor were also looking a bit apprehensive. “Everything’s fine, honestly!”

“If you find trouble, shoot the damn sparks,” Cedric told the youngest of the Champions.

“We signed in for this,” Viktor said.

“Promise ‘Arry?” Fleur asked.

“I won’t run headfirst into trouble,” Harry vowed. “Though, I know some of Hagrid’s pets are prowling the corridors…”

The older teens shuddered.

“That was evil of you,” Cedric pouted and Harry grinned. “Harry I’m serious. If you are in danger…”

The green eyed teen dropped the silly act and gave a serious nod. “I know, I’m not losing my life over this.”

“Good boy,” Cedric told him and clapped his shoulder. He turned to the other champions. “Good luck, all of you.”

The others smiled and wished him luck as well. Then the whistle sounded and one by one the Champions entered the maze.

**LVIII**

The world started spinning and not because of all the creatures he had encountered on his way to the cup. He had thought about giving up, he knew he had nothing to prove because in the end, he had survived and gotten this far into the competition. But there was also the trap he had laid with the help of the Vampires to take Voldemort down once and for all. He got past the anti gravity spell, the Sphinx, the Blast-Ended Skrewts Hagrid offered to the Task, the Acromantula and the hedges that wanted to trip him. He saw red sparks rise and he hoped it was not Cedric. So when he had caught sight of the cup he ran with all the strength he had in his legs and he braced himself for what was to follow.

The Portkey he had expected. The cemetery was a spooky and rather predictable choice as well. The cauldron and the disfigured baby like creature were not. Harry was nearly sick at the sight. And then Moody walked up to him, wand pointed at him with a twisted grin and Harry knew that this man was not the real Moody. Before he had the chance to react, the fake Moody was attacked. Xyla had been true to her word and her minions were there, the female Vampire sauntered over, falling into a stop right next to Harry.

“I hope you were not worried,” she told the green eyed teen.

The green eyed teen shook his head. “I just hate Portkeys,” he offered and she nodded. Both of them turned their eyes to stare at Voldemort in the false body he had created. It was a pathetic form of existence. Vampires were immortal, or as closely as there was to immortality as possible, and even they thought Riddle’s attempts to live forever were desperate at best.

Harry kept close to the female Vampire, trying not to flinch when Voldemort started hissing and cursing his way, both in English and in Parseltongue. The Vampires just glared at this excuse for a wizard.

“Well,” Xyla shot a disdainful look at Voldemort. Then she turned to Harry. “Let’s get started. No reason to stall.”

The green eyed wizard winced. “Do I need to be here for this?”

“Remember that Prophecy darling? Not only do you need to be here, but you get to participate,” she told the teen.

What followed was the most gruesome hour in Harry’s life. Rituals, even purifying ones, were a mess. The Vampires were prepared. The cauldron the fake Moody had been preparing the potion in was tipped and the contents spilled in the soil of the run down cemetery. The foul smell as the brew sizzled and disappears is worse than anything imagined.

“It’s the dark magic,” Xyla explains. “Anything demanding bones, flesh and blood is too foul for the Earth to receive. Banishing it would not work though. Come on now, our work starts now.”

Harry lets her herd him forward. He wants to bolt but he knows he needs to play his part; it was after all what they had agreed to do. The rune circle is easy to draw; it helps drown out the hissed insults Voldemort makes. When the intricate design is over and Harry’s knees ache and he feels drained from pouring magic and the intent to purify into the carved designs. The vampires shove the humanoid form of the dark Lord inside. Then Harry steps back and the chanting starts, Xylanthe and her mate are the ones in charge of this. Tearing Tom Riddle’s soul away from this corporeal form he has assumed is easy. It is a shrivelled, wounded soul and not strong enough to hold onto a body. It has been mutilated beyond natural laws. The fake body crumbles away and Voldemort’s spirit levitates inside the rune circle. The soul tries to break free but the runes glow, trapping him inside.

“You’ll never be rid of me!” Voldemort threatens them. “I can never truly die! And when I come back you will all pay!”

Xylanthe smiles, her cruel, bloodthirsty smile that makes even the crazy dark lord take notice.

“I’m afraid, Riddle, that your contingency plans are dust, basilisk venom and fiendfire will do that to a Horcrux,” she mocks and if spirits could pale, Harry thinks this one would as well. There is nothing but anger and vitriol spewing from Voldemort’s mouth but there is no real threat to his words. The most feared dark lord in Britain is rendered powerless thanks to the Vampires. Then Xylanthe mutters the final words to the chant and Harry feels something snap inside his head. He’s down on his knees with a pained cry, the scream of agony mirrored by the bodiless spirit a few feet away. Blood rushes from the scar on the green eyed wizard’s face and dark smoke rises, polluting the blood, making it look like tar running down the teen’s face. Harry feels like he has been in agony for years, throat screamed hoarse. Then he is pulled to his feet rather forcefully and a sword pushed into his trembling hands. He can barely see where he is going despite the tears running from his eyes. He hears the words of encouragement only it is not Xylanthe this time but Lorcan. The singer and half Vampire is supporting him, helping him cross the rune circle. The moment he does, the remains of the Horcrux Voldemort had unwittingly created when he attacked the Potter house on Halloween thirteen years ago. As the remains disintegrate, purified by the ritual, Harry can suddenly see better and he can finally see the spirit of Tom Riddle. It is easy to lift the sword and cut through the ghostly mist. He channels his magic into the blade, all the while being encouraged by the Vampires that surround him.

In the end, it is easy to kill Voldemort, somewhat anticlimactic, but the relief Harry feels is staggering. The rune circle glows one last time before disappearing, the chalk becoming ashes as the magic takes with it the remaining spirit of the wizard that used to terrorize wizards and witches of his home country. Then everything blacked out.

**LIX**

It is like a war council in the infirmary. The Headmaster of Hogwarts had been alarmed when the Portkey, instead of taking the winning champion to the beginning of the labyrinth whisked Harry Potter away from the school. It had caused a huge stir and the boy’s parents had immediately tracked him down, worried and angry at the school for the danger the boy was in. Cedric Diggory, the second person to reach the centre of the labyrinth, is with them, bloodied and tired yet more worried about the missing younger Hufflepuff. And then Harry arrives, unconscious and bloody and magically exhausted in the arms of a female Vampire, surrounded by a dozen of the creatures. Chaos is the lesser word to describe what happened then.

He still wonders how he managed to send Fudge away, keep the spectators and the teachers calm and lead the strange group back to Hogwarts. He is beyond curious as to why Clarissa and Philip Lloyd seem at ease around the Vampires or why Philip thanks them. It seems Diggory is as well.

“What’s wrong with my son?” Clarissa demands.

“Extracting his Horcrux was taxing,” Lorcan admits.

Albus looks horrified and then adds astonishment to that emotion when Harry’s parents, two Muggle’s, seem to recognize the term when even Cedric does not.

“Soul piece,” Philip explains to the older Hufflepuff. “It’s how that Dark Lord of yours kept alive. No more though,” he states. He eyes Xylanthe almost defiantly. “He is dead and gone for good this time, right?”

She smirks. “Of course. That’s why Harry there fainted. Exhaustion. His magic was also tired for fending off that last soul piece.”

“Did you know he was one?” Clarissa asks, never taking her worried eyes off her son’s face.

“I suspected,” Xyla admits. “We all did,” she eyes her mate. “It no longer matters though.”

“What is going on?” Cedric asks and Philip clasps his arm.

“I’ll explain later, son,” he tells Harry’s friend. “Or perhaps my son will when he awakes again.”

“I would also like an explanation,” Albus cuts in and he receives a fanged smile from the leading Vampire.

“I’m sure you do,” Xylanthe tells him. “Let us step into your office for this. I’m sure Harry’s parents just want to spend time with their son.”

The blue eyed wizard frowns. He desperately wants answers. He had had theories as to what happened on that Halloween when Lily and James died and how Tom was vanquished, however temporarily. He had thought dark magic had been responsible and the foulest form of them as well and it seems like he was correct in that assumption. Albus Dumbledore just never expected to hear that damned word, ‘Horcrux’ from the people that practically barged into his school. If they say though that the Horcruxes are destroyed he wants to learn how, he had after all searched for a long time to find out and he wants to know whether young Potter is finally free once and for all. If he is, that is one less regret in his life, though he hates that Xylanthe of all people had a hand in this. He can already tell he has a difficult summer ahead of him.

“I’ll have Madam Pomfrey check on my student first,” Dumbledore tells her.

The female Vampire shrugs. “If you think it necessary. Clarissa, Philip, we will make contact at a later date.”

Lorcan nods at them and the Vampires leave.

It is then that Poppy Pomfrey rushes forward and starts checking up on Harry, under the worried eyes of his family.

“Will he…” Philip is almost afraid to ask. He half expected the crazy plan those Vampires and his son concocted to blow up in their faces. Clarissa clutches his arms so hard it should pain him, but with all the adrenaline he hardly feels it.

“Just exhausted,” the medi witch explains. She starts cleaning away the stains from Harry’s face and with a spell the teen is wearing pyjamas and is under the covers of a bed. “He’s fine, nothing he can’t sleep off.”

And just like that, Harry’s family and Cedric feel able to breathe again.

* * *

**End of chapter.**


	7. Nightly Outing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

**LX**

Lorcan rolled his eyes.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he finally grunted.

Orpheus hardly paid him any attention.

“I got a call from your manager,” Lorcan stated. “He said that you cancelled a tour.” The other Vampire barely paid him any mind and the half Vampire sighed. “Is this about your human? The Boy-Who-Lived? He’s a pretty boy but this is getting ridiculous!”

Immediately Orpheus turned to him. “Don’t call him a pretty boy!”

“This actually gets a reaction,” Lorcan muttered to himself. “You know, this thing with the life debt you owe him is getting to you.”

“He nearly drained his core with that ritual!” Orpheus finally yelled, standing up and starting to pace.

“He agreed to it though,” the half Vampire reminded his full blooded Vampire friend. “He sat down with us and his parents, learned all the risks and then agreed. That soul piece had to be killed off and that ritual managed to kill two birds with one stone. No more Voldemort, no more Potter being a Horcrux.”

“He has yet to recover.”

Lorcan sighed. “I know.”

“He could never recover.”

“My… You really love your gloom and doom. And you apparently took to stalking the boy.”

Orpheus paused in his pacing. “I was not stalking him!”

Lorcan grinned. “You know, you are the typical Vampire. It’s so cliché it’s not even funny.”

“I was not stalking him,” Sanguini repeated. “I was merely trying to find out whether he woke.”

The half vampire sighed. He was there. He had seen the boy taken to Hogwarts unconscious and he had read the newspapers about how the green eyed wizard was taken home in a nearly comatose state. Magical exhaustion, the rumours said. Not irreversible but it would take a while for the boy to recover. Lorcan was glad Orpheus had not been there for the ritual; the older vampire would have gone ballistic at the pain the young teen had had to go through. He would have done something stupid, both because of the life debt he owed to the Boy-Who-Lived and because he was infatuated with Potter. It was funny how the older male did not dare admit this. Still, Lorcan had been Sanguini’s friend for years and he was worried. He was going down a path of self distraction, all because he could not be with the teen and pay off the debt. Lorcan sighed.

“Come on,” he told the full blooded vampire.

“What do you mean?”

“You need help and I’m it.”

Oprheus stared. “Elaborate because you make no sense.”

“Well, seeing you pining has been fun but now I really need to act. You need to get close to the green eyed boy wonder, right?”

Sanguini nodded.

“Then we plan,” Lorcan told him. “This is a battle and you need to win it or you’ll make me tear my hair out,” he muttered grumpily. He was taking charge and he was going to make this work before a moping Orpheus drove him insane.

“What are you saying?” Sanguini demanded.

“You heard me the first time. Now, let’s go stalk a teenage boy.” He gave a wide grin at the older male.

“For the last time, I was not stalking him!”

“Sure, buddy,” Lorcan muttered patronizingly.

Orpheus groaned. “Why are we friends again.”

“Because I’m the only one who can stand you for long periods of time without wanting to cut my head off,” came the quick reply.

**LXI**

Cedric is in Harry’s room. The green eyed wizard was sent home the moment he woke up, ten days after he ended up in Hogwarts’ infirmary. It had been a hard time. Philip and Clarissa had been unable to stay in Hogwarts for days on end as the charms that allowed them temporarily to see the castle were able to do so only for a few hours a day. It fell to Harry’s circle of friends to visit the unconscious teen and write about his progress to the boy’s parents, not that Poppy Pomfrey did not already do that. It just made Cedric, Justin and even Blaise feel a bit better.  The news about Voldemort’s defeat had somehow spread and the Diggory heir was willing to bet it had everything to do with the group that had returned his green eyed friend to them. It was a clever manoeuvre that crashed with Fudge’s statements. The public at first was confused, on one hand the _Prophet_ declared the Vampires liars and on the other hand every other newspaper declared that the Dark Lord was finally dead, that the monster had tried to return and failed and Harry Potter was there, he had saved them again. The magical community was buzzing with glee about the newest piece of gossip and drama. And the object of all the speculation was sequestered away, recuperating and still weak from the ritual.

“Cedric?”

The young adult wizard turned and watched the green eyed wizard.

“You are up?” he told Harry with a smile. Another thing they had all worried about the raven haired wizard was that he was sleeping a lot of hours, eating very little.

“Yes,” Harry smiled at Cedric, “And I’m hungry,” he admitted and his older friend smiled and helped him to his feet.

Cedric ruffled his hair and helped him downstairs. Clarissa was still at home, while Philip was at work. The happy mother kissed her son and Cedric as well and sat them down.

“It sucks,” the green eyed wizard told them. “I really hate sleeping so much, feeling so weak…” He shook his head.

“You’ll get better,” Clarissa told him as she served breakfast. The Vampires had explained all about the drain the ritual had put on Harry. His body had been trying to hold off the piece of Voldemort’s soul.

“I’m feeling stronger already,” Harry complained. He wanted to go out, have fun, go out dancing, just get out of the house. It was the longest he had stayed at home with nothing to do.

“Well, Justin, Hannah and Susan are coming in about two hours. Blaise wrote he might come as well,” Cedric told him. “I got to leave in half an hour.”

Harry smiled. “I’m glad you come every day, keeping me company.”

“You are like a little brother you know,” Cedric teased him. “I get to bug you and tease you and drive you insane.”

“I can’t wait to be fully healed,” Harry sighed. “Mum, when do you think I can go back to work again?”

Clarissa blinked. “You are still low on energy. Modelling is tough you know and that might cause more harm than good.”

“I just miss the scene,” her son told her.

“No one said you can’t go to the parties,” Clarissa tutted at her son. “Just take it as is. No alcohol…”

“I never drink,” Harry sullenly told her.

“Never hurts to warn you,” his mother replied.

“My mother is just like that,” Cedric told the green eyed Hufflepuff. “Tell you what; if you feel better by Friday we’ll go out.” He chanced a look at Clarissa who smiled at them both.

“Can I?” Harry asked her and she nodded. He beamed and munched on his toast.

**LXII**

Friday came and with it, Harry Potter was stronger. He was still not back to the old level of health and Madam Pomfrey had warned him against casting any spells yet, but the green eyed wizard was finally getting out of the house. His best and closest friends were in his house, all ready for a night out. Susan and Hannah were excited.

“Cedric took me to a club before,” Cho admitted to them, she was smiling at her boyfriend who winked from across the room. He was engaged in a discussion with Neville Longbottom and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry was wandering from group to group and taking with everyone. Half an hour later they were inside the club, music booming around them. Clarissa had arranged everything, including the fact that their table would not be served any alcohol since all of them were underage in the Muggle world, but not one of the teens minded. They all pretty much went dancing the moment they were inside, even shy Neville who was Hannah Abbot’s date. Susan and Justin and Harry were the only ones not paired up of the group of seven. It was the most fun Harry had in weeks and it showed in the way his face glowed. He danced with each and every one of his friends before others started cutting in. Some of the men and women he knew from the fashion circles he moved in, this club was a prime meeting place after all.

At some point, desperately needing a break, he collapsed on the couches his party had reserved. Cedric was there, looking exhausted. The green eyed Hufflepuff saw Cho dancing with Neville, while Hannah and Susan were nowhere to be seen.

“The girls are powdering their noses,” Cedric replied.

“Gone to the loo you mean,” Harry replied after he gulped down the sparkling water he had poured for himself.

Cedric beamed at him.

“How are you and Cho doing?” Harry asked the slightly older wizard.

“Pretty good actually,” the Diggory heir replied. “We had dinner at her parent’s house. You were… you know.”

“Comatose?”

“Asleep,” Cedric scowled. It was still a sore spot how hurt Harry had been.

“So, it is serious,” the green eyed teen grinned. “Good for you. She’s a sweet girl.”

“Hannah and the Gryffindor are also doing fine,” Cedric commented. He slowly stood and stretched. “I rested enough and my lady’s winking at me.”

Harry giggled. “Have fun!”

Cedric waved at him and hurried to Cho. Harry was relaxing and resting when a deep voice reached him over the booming music.

“May I have this dance?”

Harry turned and met pale blue eyes.

“Hello Harry.”

“Orpheus,” the green eyed teen whispered.

The Vampire grinned, a hint of fang showing. He extended his hand and Harry, after giving it a short glance, he took it and stood up.

**LXIII**

The singer found it easy to both follow the group of teens into the club. Lorcan had been impossible to bear while they waited out of Potter’s house. The moment they realized the teens were going out Lorcan had insisted Orpheus should present himself to Harry.

“Go up to him, dance with him,” the half Vampire told the older one.

“Giving me love advice now?”                                                                                                                                         

“Who said anything about love?” Lorcan arched an eyebrow.

Orpheus wanted to curse his errant mouth. Thankfully, the half Vampire did not press the issue. He had on the other hand followed Orpheus to the club and the two supernatural beings had entered together. Finding the group of teen wizards was easy in a crowd of Muggle’s, the magic stood out, made them somehow stand out, or at least it seemed that way to Sanguini, who immediately spotted the green eyed wizard he came to find. Harry seemed much better. He was pale and there was not a lot of energy in his moves, but the teen was bouncing and dancing and smiling… it was great seeing him so alive. Orpheus had been in the stands when Lorcan had brought Harry back unconscious and so pale that for a moment the Vampire had thought him dead. Seeing him now it was worth having to put up with the politics of his race, it was those politics that had in a way saved him, his alliance to Vampires. What had also shaken Orpheus quite a bit was how deathly Harry had looked that day, how similar to a Vampire with his pale skin and aristocratic features. It stirred something in him, the same something that had craved Harry’s blood when he was eight yet kept him from completely draining him.

The famous singer did not need anyone to indicate just how popular Harry was in the club. So many dancing partners got to dance with the green eyed teen, female and male, friends and strangers alike.

“I’m going to get me a bit of something,” Lorcan informed his companion, not specifying whether that something would be blood or sex.

Orpheus gave an absentminded nod his eyes pinned on Harry’s dancing form.

“He really is great,” the half Vampire commented.

“Lorcan, you’ve made your point, just go.”

The younger male nodded and slipped away, leaving Orpheus to his obsession. The older Vampire was content to look, but after a while he got rather annoyed by the attention Harry was getting, the way he was attracting a crowd of admirers. Then the green eyed teen bowed out of the next dance and walked to the couch, exhausted. Sanguini recalled the older human that dropped next to Harry was a friend and protector. When he left in search of his own date, Orpheus could no longer keep to himself. It was his chance to approach Harry before another could and even have the next dance. When those green eyes went wide and Harry smiled and accepted his help his dead heart fluttered.

**LXIV**

When Harry got on his feet and led to the dance floor, he was in a kind of daze, much like he was during the Yule Ball when the Vampire had asked him to a dance, only this time, the setting was much more intimate, no professors and just a few of his friends there, surrounded by strangers who did not care Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived. Orpheus placed his hands on Harry’s hips as the two started dancing to the beat. It was fast and lively and the two were moving fluidly against each other. They were hardly touching each other, save for the Vampire holding onto Harry and the green eyed teen’s one arm against Orpheus’ shoulder, but the intimacy of the moves, the way they stared each other, like there was no-one else around them, the music actually being one of Sanguini’s songs. Harry recognized the lyrics easily and hummed them under his breath, much to the singer’s amusement.

“Harry… I had no idea you were a fan,” he told the wizard.

The green eyed Hufflepuff smiled. “With your voice and your talent, are you really surprised?”

Orpheus shook his head. “Aren’t you surprised to see me?”

“I’m glad actually,” Harry told him. “I’ve missed you. It’s silly; we have not spent much time together since those days at the forest…” His eyes travelled to the spot Harry remembered the man being hurt. He knew the Vampire was all healed up but the memory had stuck.

Orpheus tipped his chin up with a finger, making Harry look into his eyes. “You have no idea how I missed you, little one,” he told Harry. “Seeing you all those times and being unable to do anything, show the world I know you…”

“Wouldn’t have been good,” Harry admitted. “It’s why I never showed any sign I knew you, I could tell.”

“Smart kid.”

“I read about Vampires you know, the first thing I did when I got to Hogwarts and saw the library,” Harry sighed as Orpheus pulled him closer now, bodies touching, as the Vampire rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“Go on,” he urged the teen.

“I searched about life debts too,” Harry offered and the Vampire hummed in agreement.

“So you understand then,” Orpheus told him. “I cannot walk away from you. Because of the debt and because of you as a person.”

“Me? I just thought…”

“The debt is a serious thing, makes me want to go to extremes as long as you are safe. A wizard is not affected so much, but me…” he shook his head. “Magic works in odd ways. But trust me, Harry. A life debt is hardly the only thing that keeps me to you.”

“Is it my blood?”

“That too,” the Vampire showed his fangs before retracting them and giving the teen a human like smile. “So sweet,” he muttered, running his finger along Harry’s jaw line.

The music changed its beat, getting wilder.

“Dance with me Harry.”

“Okay,” the teen replied almost mesmerized by the creature he had met in his youth.

**LXV**

Cho had been flirting and dancing, rather provocatively if she admitted this to herself, with her boyfriend. It was fun and both she and Cedric liked it, but then she turned her head and blinked. Harry was no longer at their table but close by, dancing with a rather handsome man… who was she kidding? The man was like a god. He managed to make her blush with his flawless skin, pale eyes and long black hair. He looked almost ethereal and it made her feel embarrassed how much she was affected. She glanced at her boyfriend and she felt better. It was then she realized that something was not quite right with the tall, dark male that was dancing quite provocatively with Harry.

“Cedric,” she clutched her boyfriend’s shoulder and got his attention. “Look over there,” she urged him. “Something about that guy who’s dancing with Harry.”

The soon to be seventh year Hufflepuff stared. “No way!” he gasped. “Cho! Don’t you recognize him?”

The Ravenclaw shook her head.

“That is Orpheus Sanguini,” Cedric said, his voice showing his incredulity and a bit of panic. “

“Sanguini… Sounds familiar.”

“A Vampire, Cho, that man is a Vampire,” Cho’s boyfriend stated, making her gasp.

Then they both saw the man turn his head, and stare right at them, making them realized that the Vampire had actually heard them.

**LXVI**

Harry was having the time of his life. He loved dancing and Orpheus knew how to move against him, how to take the lead, how to make him unaware of the stares they received. The songs changed, the beat and the rhythm and they way they danced but they still continued. Orpheus’ cold hands were getting warm after touching the wizard’s warming body for so long. It was amazing. Harry’s scent was all over him, much more tantalizing than it used to be. It was obvious from it that Harry was attracted to him, his body was beckoning him closer, not quite like arousal but it was getting there. Probably the teen’s magic had picked up on the affection the young wizard held for the un-dead male and was acting accordingly. Orpheus hesitates only for a second before he presses his forehead against Harry’s, giving the young wizard every chance to pull away. The green eyed teen does not. Instead, he lifts a hand and presses it to the Vampire’s neck. There is no pulse, no blood flowing. It is a cool spot, a dead spot but Harry just smiles and moves softly, his hand caressing the skin of the neck and gently drawing it over the man’s cheek, dragging it down to the vampire’s chin.

It is then Orpheus wants nothing more in the world but to kiss Harry. It would be too easy, he realizes. He knows those lips will be warm, perhaps even scalding hot, all that dancing and bouncing around has made the teen’s blood flow stronger and faster and his body is so warm that he could feel it even if he was not touching Harry. But his hearing picks it up, his name being called

“… _Orpheus Sanguini…_ ”

“… _Sanguini… Sounds familiar_ …”

“… _Vampire…”_

He turns his head and sees the teens from Hogwarts; Harry’s friends are looking at them. More than that, they know he is a Vampire and probably a danger to their friend. With regret, Orpheus realizes that he cannot kiss the teen. Oh, he could do more than that, kiss him, enthral him, even take him, had he truly wished to act like a textbook seducer and creature of the night. But Harry is different. He is not a meal, and he most certainly is not a way to find quick release. He is precious and young, so young yet older than the last time they have seen each other. And he is going to be his completely and Orpheus needs him to be willing and not just because the life debt would probably kill him if he were to do anything to harm the green eyed youth. Lorcan had been right that Orpheus was obsessed with the teen. He had been correct to catch the slip of tongue Sanguini had made about love advice. Vampires did not love. They obsessed and destroyed and possessed but these feelings he had for Harry were the closest thing a Vampire could have to love. So he pulled away, ready to step back, into the shadows from where he could watch until the green eyed teen was older and where he would have only Lorcan’s gibes about stalking to keep him company. Later, he realizes he has overestimated his own control.

**LXVII**

Harry’s eyes went wide when he felt and saw Orpheus pull away from him. His hands reached out as a reflex, pulling the Vampire close, preventing him from stepping further away. It was too soon for him to go, not when Harry had missed his presence so much. It was ridiculous how the long haired male affected him so much. The mixture of hero worship the more childish side of him had for the Vampire and the new, deeper and more intense emotions the much, much older male provoked in him, ever since he had seen the CD in that mall with his father and when, later he had danced with the man, plotted with his fellow Vampires for Voldemort’s demise and now, after dancing him for so long, so intimately…

“Don’t go,” he says and he is not begging at all. It is a soft demand that stops the Vampire in his tracks.

“Your friends…”

“One more dance.”

“You don’t need the trouble my presence could bring.”

“Orpheus…”

The Vampire hesitates, just for a moment, before he moves, face close to Harry’s again.

“Why do you move me so?” he mutters.

Harry has no idea how to answer him. In the end, apparently Orpheus does not really require an answer. He just pressed his forehead against Harry’s.

“Last chance to pull away,” he warns the teen.

“You said the same thing that first time,” Harry softly tells him, but even over the beat of music and the noise of the club Orpheus can hear him crystal clear. “I did not heed the warning then either.”

“You were eight. Now you are supposed to be older, wiser. I’m dangerous little wizard.”

“You’ll never hurt me,” Harry states with a conviction he never knew he had.

Then Orpheus smiles. “Too smart for your own good,” he tells the green eyed teen and before Harry could say anything else, he yanked the teen close and covered his mouth with his in a demanding kiss. Harry hesitated for a moment before responding with an eagerness that later surprised him. It was odd, the contrast between them. Harry’s mouth was warm and inexperienced yet, while Orpheus was cold and deliberate and devastatingly good at this. He was oddly gentle despite the urgent nature of the kiss. When his tongue reached out, eager to taste more of Harry, the teen started, but before he could pull away, the Vampire placed a hand behind his head and steadied him, gently probing those warm lips apart and plundering the green eyed wizard’s mouth. Harry moaned at the intrusion and pushed closer to Orpheus. All too soon they broke the connection, Harry’s chest rising and falling as the teen could finally catch his breath properly. It was on that moment that Orpheus gave him one last kiss, where the Horcrux used to be, before pulling away.

“Soon,” he told Harry.

“What?” the teen blinked.

Orpheus seemed regretful. “It’s too soon,” he repeated. “But it won’t be long now, Harry. You’ll hear from me again, this I promise.”

Harry nodded. “If I don’t I’ll hunt you down.”

“If anyone can, it’s you,” the Vampire told him and with one last lingering look he disappeared into the crowd and Harry’s friends rushed to the green eyed teen’s side, worried and filled with questions for the raven haired teen.

**LXVIII**

“A Vampire,” Susan stated.

The sky was lit up, dawn had come yet the group of friends were still out. Harry stared up at the clouds.

“Yes,” he replied. “Still unable to digest this?”

Susan nodded numbly.

“The same guy you danced with at the Yule Ball,” Cedric commented. “I remember him.”

Harry smiled. “Yes, he is the same man.”

Susan sighed. “Harry, that was reckless even for you. A Vampire?”

The green eyed wizard eyed his friends. “Orpheus would never hurt me,” he told them and got disbelieving looks from them. “Honestly,” he told them. “He actually owes me a life debt.”

That got their attention. They were all shooting questions at him, wanting to know how that turned out to be. Harry tried to calm them all down and when he did, he had their attention.

“There are some things you are not aware of, things that concern me,” Harry admitted.

“We can listen,” Hannah said.

“And not judge,” Cedric added, the rest of them nodding in agreement.

Harry sighed. He refused to meet their eyes as he told them exactly how he ended up in Philip and Clarissa’s care, about the abusive Dursley’s and the forest he found refuge in, where he met Orpheus for the first time. By the time he finished his narration, not telling them anything about the other un-dead he had met or how they played their part in taking Voldemort down. Whatever details had gone to the press was all his friends would know; the rest would be a secret.

“Wow,” Justin muttered after the green eyed Hufflepuff was finished with his rather amazing story.

“Harry,” Cedric sighed, rubbing his temples. “Only you,” he said and Harry turned in time to see his friends smiling wryly at him.

“So…” the raven haired model muttered. “You now know.”

“And we understand,” Susan added. She had moved closer to Harry while the green eyed teen shared his tale and she was hugging him, offering comfort and the knowledge that they were all there for him. Harry was glad for his friends. None of them, not even Cho, were looking at him with judgmental looks, like he had done something unforgivable. Instead they joked about it like it was something the teen did on a daily basis, and in a way, he was. Harry was always caught up in some kind of adventure,

“I’m happy to know that you can get in trouble on your own,” Justin grinned at his green eyed friend.

“Yes,” Cho grinned. “Obviously you had an early start.”

“I’m not as amused as the rest of you are,” Cedric muttered.

Cho rolled her eyes. “Of course not. You and Harry are like brothers, with you being the older, pricklier and overprotective one,” she told her boyfriend.

Cedric gave her a wounded look but the rest of them laughed, save Harry who was blushing.

“Just… I worry,” Cedric told them.

“We know,” the others chorused.

Harry patted the older teen’s arm. “Thank you Ced.”

“You’re welcome Harry,” he replied.

**LXIX**

Orpheus was outside the club smoking when Lorcan exited, looking smug and entirely too pleased with himself. The full blooded Vampire did not bother asking what the younger male had been up to. He just finished his cigarette and fell into step with Lorcan.

“I saw you,” the half Vampire stated.

Orpheus shrugged. “So?”

“Dangerous game,” Lorcan commented. “How was the teen? Receptive?”

The older male gave a short nod. “I’d never do anything he did not want me to do,” he offered.

“Hm, but you can charm him to do whatever you want,” his friend countered.

“Harry… He’s like a kitten only when he wants to be,” Orpheus commented. He knew the green eyed teen. “Had he not wanted me, he’s perfectly capable of cursing and hexing me. It was not just luck that had him surviving the blasted Tournament.”

“No, I know he’s good,” Lorcan replied. “I just worry that you’ll lose your head because of a young mortal. Be careful, Orpheus.”

“I always am.”

Lorcan sighed but did not press the issue further.

* * *

**End of chapter.**


	8. Courtship Rituals and Concerns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta Reader: pussycatadamah  
> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. I only use them in my plot for fun and not for profit.

**LXX**

He watched with unreadable eyes at the window. He was in Paris, after giving a concert in Milan and his mind just could not concentrate on the matter at hand, his performance. It had been a while since he last saw his obsession, but Orpheus had not forgotten about Harry, not at all. He had decided to act sooner rather than later. The Vampire knew that he wanted to have the green eyed wizard. So he decided on the way he wanted to do this. Orpheus rarely considered himself a model for Vampires since he shied away from the big crowds of his kind, preferring to socialize only with the Old ones, those that remembered a time when man still thought the earth was flat. He knew the customs of his kind, he knew how to appreciate their beauty and the fact that they set apart the Vampires from all other species. Courting rituals were an elaborate tradition, one that mortals later tried to copy but they only managed to get the materialistic aspect of the Vampiric tradition, the fools. Sure, providing shelter and goods and food and wealth was fine, but a companion usually needed more and his kind knew that. With Vampires, forever was as close to a reality as possible and Orpheus wanted that forever with the green eyed wizard that had given him life, driven him to live once again. It was hard being an Ancient and anything that could give life to him, make the blood hum in his veins (figuratively at least since the liquid of life hardly moved inside him), was welcome and well received.

So Orpheus ignored the jests from Lorcan and went ahead, sending gifts to the green eyed teen. He watched just that first time when Harry received his gift. It was the first of a long line that he would bequest on the raven haired youth. But even from the get go, Harry understood. Orpheus delighted in the fact that the Hufflepuff had read about Vampires, and not just the romance novels the teens his age preferred, but real tomes that contained knowledge about customs and information and rituals and the culture of the Un-dead. That was a great compliment for a Vampire. Orpheus had given Harry a blade, a fine first gift that so very few people recognised for what it was. The blade he had given the teen had a wooden handle, mahogany infused with birch, the colours so very different but also well worn with age. There were runes carved on them, for protection and durability and to make sure that this knife never could be held against the one who wielded it and owned it. The blade itself was not very big, more like a dagger. It was old and in some places the metal looked ragged. It was done on purpose; this thing as the maker, an old metal forger Orpheus knew back in one of the Roman provinces he had visited when Augustus was on his prime, had made blades like this on purpose and instead of soaking them in water, he used venoms and runes to make the blades deadlier to the enemies of the holder. It was a trusty blade, a good and truly loyal one, it had saved Orpheus' hide numerous times, in too many skirmishes to recall, too many wars and ambushes by humans and creatures alike. And now, the Vampire singer wanted for Harry to have it, to always carry it around, or at least keep it close, to always be safe even when Orpheus was not there to watch over him.

Harry, being the impossibly bright boy that he was, had smiled upon opening the cloth that housed the dagger and he had gone for the note attached to it: " _Protected by me, always"._ He had then mouthed the words that most old Vampires knew by heart: _"and you will be protected back"._ It was a simple vow really, no magic involved, nothing binding and final and profound. But it was the first step and the most important one. When Lorcan heard from Orpheus the good news, the part Vampire had been surprised.

"You are really going to go through with this," the singer realised when Sanguini did not seem to be joking. "And the Boy-Who-Lived is also going to do this. I can tell he is not an idiot rushing into this blindly."

"Still laughing Lorcan?" Orpheus baited his younger friend.

And the part vampire shook his head. "No Orpheus. It's hardly a laughing matter. No, I fear for you. Because you know as well as I know, that the wizards will not like for one of our kind to have him, the jewel in their crown. They do like their heroes and they do hate us. This won't end well, Orpheus."

"Are you going to tell me to stop this? Walk away, wait till Harry dies of old age and then ..."

"I know, then you will be bound to his children, should he have any," lorcan sighed. "I'm not sure if I should rejoice or fear for you. This is the most crazy thing any Vampire has pulled since ... Well, I have no idea when was the last time something so outrageous was attempted."

"Are you going to be like this during the entire courtship?"

Lorcan shook his head. "No, in this, I'm at your side. For all the times you saved my neck... Yes, I owe you this much. Plus, this is not just an obsession for you, is it?"

"No, he is not. Harry really is the real deal."

The younger male sighed. There really was no arguing with the older Vampire and he could continue being apart or support Sanguini. He decided to do the latter, hoping that the situation worked in the older Vampire's favour. The alternative would be bad, very bad.

"What follows next then?" Lorcan asked Orpheus.

The older Vampire smiled wickedly and the younger of the two thought that Harry Potter would be amazed at the lengths Orpheus Sanguini would go to sweep him off his feet. The teen was a lucky wizard indeed.

 

**LXXI**

Harry always thought modelling was fun, like hobbies were supposed to be and he was standing by that belief. He had missed the cat walk and he enjoyed his time doing it again, for a charity this time. He was busy changing into a new outfit, when he caught sight from across the room a rather pale figure. It was one of the women models. She was tall and thin with impossibly pale skin. That in fact was not as strange as it should be, but Harry, having been introduced to Vampires early on could spot one from a distance. As if she read his mind, the blond woman looked up. Her lips curled into a smile when she spotted him. The green eyed teen nodded at her and she nodded back.

Later, after the show was over and Harry, dressed in jeans (really expensive designer ones) and a nice top, joined the other models at the party that took place, the female vampire sauntered up to him. A hint of a fang in her smile and a hunger in her dark eyes as she smoothed her mini black dress while she sat down. She was beautiful up close, but in a subtle way. It was her allure, the green eyed teen realised. If he had been into women he would definitely be all over her by now.

"Harry Potter," she muttered. "I'm Carina, Carina Osvald."

"Nice to meet you," the teen told her.

"You know what I am."

"I can say the same to you," Harry commented.

She casually slid on the couch and sat right next to him. Harry watched her eyes trail over him; it was strangely weird but he let her.

"Figures," she said after a while.

"What?" the male model asked.

The female Vampire sighed. "You do know you have been claimed right?"

"He's courting me too," Harry offered.

Apparently those were magic words because the cold and aloof model blinked in surprise and then turned into a gushing person, just like that. She asked questions about the gifts, the male courting him, how that came to be.

"You understand of course why I'm so interested, right?" Carina asked the teen. "Courtings are a thing of the old days. I myself was turned in the forties... The nineteen forties," she clarified. "I'm hardly old by my kind's standards. I’m lucky my Sire was quite nice and taught me things. Would you believe what some other leeches are up to?"

"Leeches?" Harry asked.

"Fits, doesn't it? Also, it is not an insult when a Vampire says it," Carina shot at Harry.

"Why did you come over?"

"Well..." she made herself comfortable.”You have to admit that my kind... It's not easy meeting you, the Boy-Who-Lived. Despite the stunt you pulled. Teaming with Vampires Potter? That was original, for a wizard."

"They teamed up with me," the green eyed wizard replied. "And it's not like I sold my soul to the devil. It was a mutual deal."

"The old ones... They rarely do something without gain. And apparently at least one of them has something to gain."

"You mean the courtship," the Hufflepuff said.

"You're a smart boy."

"It's not like that," he told Carina.

"We don't feel like humans do, Potter. We used to be like you, mortal, filled with emotions and humanity. But the moment you are turned, you are no longer human. And believe me, humanity... It makes a huge difference. Wizards are still human. But Vampires, or even Werewolves," she trailed off and shook her head, a predatory look on her face. Harry rightly guessed that she was proud of being a Vampire.

"We are not human," Carina stressed.

"You are not monsters either," Harry told her.

"Aren't we? Aren't I?" she seemed amused.

"Being a predator does not make you a monster," the wizard told her. "We are to you what cows and cattle are to us."

"You are entertainment as well," Carina reminded him.

Harry sighed. "What is it with Vampires wanting to stress how evil they are?"

"Because when we do behave like our nature makes us," Carina told the teen, "No one can say they were not warned soon enough."

Fangs gleamed and Harry nodded, understanding that notion.

"I won't run from my Vampire," he told her. "No need to warn me. He already did."

"Smart male then," Carina offered. "And young man, running was never an option for you."

"Yes it was. He owes me a life debt."

Carina smiled. "It only makes him hesitant to rip your throat up and gorge himself in your blood," she replied.

Harry fought down a shudder. "He..."

"He is a Vampire. And if I can smell your tasty blood, so can he. He will try and keep you safe Potter, never doubt that. Debts are serious like that. But never forget yourself. It is a killer by nature the one having his arms around you." she reached over and with the hand not holding her drink she touched Harry's face.

He liked the coolness of her touch.

"You would make a wonderful Vampire," she murmured.

"I sense an 'if' following."

She smirked. "If not for your heart."

"Why?"

"You care too much."

"Why is that such a bad thing?" Harry asked her.

She studied him carefully. "Hm, we'll see," Carina said. "Enjoy the party little wizard."

"You too Madam Vampire."

She stood and went to mingle. Harry did not look her way again but he did think about what they had discussed.

 

**LXXII**

"Again?" Philip asked his son. Harry had visited at the hospital and the duo had gone out to have lunch together and catch up. The green eyed teen had wanted to spend time with his father before her left for a weekend at Susan Bones' house and just that morning a new present had arrived, shocking the green eyed teen. He had of course told his parents.

Harry nodded. "Yes," he said after he chewed the bite of his chicken salad. "This one arrived via regular mail. Mom was sitting there staring at it."

Philip sighed. "What present did you get this time?"

The teen had a big grin on his face. "Believe it or not, a normal baby dog."

The doctor choked on his water.

Harry, having known and anticipated the tirade that was going to follow, hurried to calm his father. "It's the cutest dog ever! She's so small and soft and cute! Unbelievably cute!"

"Harry… You said 'cute' three times," Philip muttered.

The teen beamed at him. "Because she is! And I'll take care of her and yes, she has to stay with you and mum while I'm off at Hogwarts but it's only for a few more years, then I'll take care of her completely. I wrote to Sprout you know and asked if I could bring Aurora along…"

"Aurora?" Philip asked.

"The dog dad," Harry said after he finished frowning at the interruption. "But she said that the rules don't allow dogs so I can't take her with me on September first. And I cannot give her back. I just can't do that."

The doctor sighed, unable to resist the looks his son was giving him.

"And you still have not said why you don't want to return the gifts. I know that you saved that guy and that he kept you safe but he's older than you, Harry, so much older than you. Men always want something and I worry that when he comes asking…" Philip trailed off. "You are young and in many cases innocent Harry. You could end up getting hurt or worse."

Harry smiled, touched that his father still worried about him. "He won't, not part of the whole process, not yet. And I believe Aurora, Rori for short, is mostly a birthday present, not a courting gift."

Philip sighed. "What breed is she?"

"Golden retriever and she’s so small…"

The doctor groaned, feeling like banging his head against the wall. The way his son was looking up at him now... He really had no chance against the facial expression on Harry's face. He had barely managed to avoid giving in when Harry was shy of eleven and had asked for a horse. Clarisa had intervened just in time really, he had been about to cave. Now though, the battle was lost before it even started and apparently Harry knew that as well. "What a devious teen you have become Harry," he sighed. “And apparently you can have a puppy look of your own."

"Is that a yes?" the teen cautiously tested the waters and when Philip nodded Harry gave a beaming grin. "You're the best!" he told his father.

Philip sighed. "I know, I know. It's too late now but, is your mother okay with this? Having a dog in the house?" The last thing he needed was to sleep on the couch after a seventeen hour shift at the hospital. He ignored the mirth in his son's eyes.

"Mum? She already bought a pillow and a water bowl for Rori," Harry replied and Philip sighed, resigned.

"I just hope these gifts don't get more elaborate than this. Sure, poems and books and clothes, roses and chocolates and the like are fine, but now he's giving you pets… What's next?"

Harry wisely kept his mouth shut. He had a vague idea as to what would follow when the courtship progressed to the last levels. Parents did not always need all the details. Especially details about Vampiric courtship rituals. Because the gifts would get more elaborate, more intimate and, unfortunately, more gory.

 

**LXXIII**

Blood tricked down his lips but he did not care. He continued drawing more of it. Blood Potions, like all potions that tried to mimic were nice and good, but just for a rainy day. Blood, fresh from a throat, a vein, live prey, human prey, tasted and did much more than a mere substitute ever could, ever would. Magical blood tasted even better, but over the years, Vampires learned to just make due with Muggle’s.

Orpheus released his latest meal and watched as the woman crumpled on the couch near him. Around them no one even blinked as the body collapsed near him. It was what he liked most about places like this one, feeding grounds, the lack of attention and the fact that afterwards, he did not have to clean up the body. Not that he ever had any trouble picking anyone up from the streets. He could also control himself rather well if need be; he did not always kill his prey. But there was something so satisfying about draining someone dry.

He stood, licked the last of the blood away from his lips, straightened his clothes and walked up to the bar.

"Done already?" Xyla or better known as Xylanthe Of Glafka, the Head Vampyr of the British Conclave, dressed in a mini leather black dress, was lazily leaning on the bar, perched on a bar stool.

Orpheus nodded her way.

The female Vampire watched the body get carried off. Nobody of the none Vampire patrons noticed. The people they were feeding upon were all under compulsions or too drugged to notice their surroundings. And really, who would care to help them even if they did try to flee? The few regulars that were there, willing to share blood but not to get drained. Malik, her partner was off with one of those lovely ladies and Xyla was waiting for him.

"You know," the female Vampire said when Orpheus made to walk away. "What you are doing could backfire on all of us? Really, courting a mortal?"

Just like that the Vampire with the pale blue eyes was brought up short. "You..."

"Know? Of course I do."

Orpheus stared at her. "Are you going to stop me?"

"Stop you?" Xyla laughed. "I have not been so amused in years, Orpheus. No. I'll stand by and see the two of you make either history or fools of yourselves," she informed Sanguini. "You do have great taste, I'll give this much," were her last words to him, before she spotted Malik and sauntered up to him.

Orpheus felt exasperated but took it in a stride and left the feeding grounds, not wanting to spend more time in that place when his job was done. The smell of blood was fine but the sight just did not excite him as much any more.

 

**LXXIV**

Blood had started everything, Harry mused with dark amusement, and it appeared that it still ruled his life. His mother's blood had saved him, his own blood had saved Orpheus, and now apparently the Vampire was ready to return the favour. Harry was ready to return to school when the presents he was receiving from the famous singer reached an all time high, the all time high of Vampires, actually. It came with a courier while he was in France with both of his parents. They had been eating out at the time but apparently the magical couriers needed nothing but a name to track down a person, because the large box was delivered to him at the restaurant. It was big, black with a velvety texture, with a silken ribbon of deep emerald, like the colour of Harry's eyes.

"For Mister Harry James Potter," the courier told the teen, his amber eyes betraying his werewolf heritage.

Harry had taken the gift with wide eyes as the werewolf bowed away. After prompting from his parents, and under the expectant eyes of the people in the restaurant, he undid the ribbon and opened the box with trembling fingers. Inside, cushioned by two dozen of ruby red roses was a smaller box. The teen stayed still at first, hands caressing the rose petals briefly, even sniffing the dizzying scent the flowers gave off, before his fingers inched towards the small box and opened it as well. A soft gasp escaped his throat when he saw it, a ring. It was made from a hard metal; so much like white gold but it was too magical to simply be that, a red stone in the middle. There were runes on the metal and Harry, looking closer saw them glowing softly. Then his eyes noticed that the gem was not a gem at all, but a hollow vessel with a dark, nearly black liquid.

It was Vampire blood, Harry realized with a start.

"Harry?" Clarissa touched his arm and this made the teen focus on her.

"A ring," the green eyed wizard uttered these words softly.

Philip and Clarissa leaned closer and got a better look of the ring in the box.

"Oh!" Harry's mother broke into a smile. "This is quite…" she trailed off but her husband had no problem finishing her train of thought.

"A ring," Philip mused. "This guy is getting serious, don't you think Harry?"

The teen nodded numbly.

"Will you put it on?" Clarissa asked.

Harry met her eyes. "This is not a ruby," he told her. "He gave me a ring with a blood crystal."

Both his adoptive parents paused.

"Blood... Crystal?" Philip had an odd look on his face. "The Vampire thing, right? So… from the stunned expression on your face it is…"

"Big," Harry replied.

"Good big or bad big?" his father asked.

The green eyed wizard smiled softly. "He really wants me," Harry admitted, feeling over whelmed for the first time since the gifts started. It hit him then that Orpheus was really in this for the long run, not as a game not because he felt he simply owed Harry too much.

It was his mother that got his attention gently. "You did say he was courting you," Clarissa pointed out. "Why are you now well... You are freaking out love."

Philip was nodding in agreement to what his wife was saying.

Harry fidgeted a bit. "Well, yes, I am, but this… This is serious."

Philip could tell the boy was starting to panic. "Harry…"

"He wants me as a companion," the teen explained then to his Muggle parents, recalling all the information from his books, all the hints Carina had dropped.

Clarissa, who had not gone through Harry's DADA books, but instead was a fan of popular literature, knew exactly what the teen was saying, but had a more romantic view of things. "Like a consort or mate?" she asked eagerly, like a teen really. Philip shot her a look that was both amused and exasperated.

Her son started explaining.

"Kind of," Harry replied, eyes trailing back to the ring. He knew he was being courted from day one but he never, ever expected that Orpheus would actually go that far. The ring was big news, with it Orpheus practically announced to the rest of the Vampires that he was off limits. If Xylanthe or her Vampires, or even Lorcan who was part human, came across him while he wore the ring they would know that he belonged to a Vampire and the scent would betray Orpheus’ identity.

"Son, do you truly wish to go ahead and do this?" Philip asked. "I admit I know nothing of…" here his voice dropped, "Vampires, but I can support you either way." He met Clarissa's gaze. "Both of us are here for you, always."

Harry stared at the ring some more. He had been thinking about it, about where this situation between him and Orpheus was leading. It was serious and there would be no going back, no second guessing either.

"Thank you," he told his parents. Then he slipped the ring on.

 

**LXXV**

"What's gotten you in high spirits?" Lorcan demanded of Orpheus.

"I need a favour," the older of the two asked.

Lorcan looked around the room. The band was lounging on various sofas, notepads and energy drinks everywhere.

"I am a bit busy, new album and all," Lorcan said. "Rings any bells? I heard your manager and your record company are expecting one from you as well."

"I need you to chaperone," Orpheus quickly told him, not bothering to comment on any of the things Lorcan told him. None of them mattered after all, not when all he cared at the moment was one green eyed teen.

"What? Please repeat that?"

Sanguini pinned him with a scowl. "You heard me quite fine the first time, Lorcan."

"I did, I just wanted to relive the moment," the younger male cheekily replied.

"Lorcan..."

"So chaperone?"

"I have a date with Harry and I need you to assure that I will not..."

"Molest the teen?"

Orpheus paused. "Do keep in mind Lorcan that all this teasing and taunting will make me retaliate at some point."

Lorcan kept grinning. "Sorry," he said unrepentantly. "Just... Seeing you in this position is simply priceless."

Orpheus bared his fangs. Lorcan quickly changed the subject and composed himself a bit because he knew that Sanguini would bite him if he kept on.

"So, chaperone, huh?" Lorcan hurriedly asked. "What am I to do?"

"Not be a nuisance as Harry and I go on a date," Sanguini explained.

Lorcan blinked. "And where are you taking him?"

Orpheus was reluctant to answer that one but eventually Lorcan found out. The Vampire had decided to take the green eyed teen out to see a movie and then they would go somewhere where Harry would eat and Orpheus would pretend to do likewise. Lorcan had been instructed to remain as unseen as possible. It was cute and mundane and a bit boring, like nothing a rock star and the Boy-Who-Lived would do. Perhaps, Lorcan mused, that was the point.

"You do realise I am a rock star?" the part Vampire had cheekily told Orpheus. "And you are one as well. And Potter is also recognizable both in Muggle and magical community, what with that modelling gig he has on. What makes you think people will be able to overlook us?"

"This date must be perfect," Sanguini insisted.

"I get that, I honestly do," Lorcan said. "But no matter how much we try, we are celebrities. You know what happens when we show our faces in public."

"Are you a vampire or not?" Orpheus retorted. "Just as we use thrall to bring prey to us, we can use mind control on Muggle’s to drive them away."

"Part vampire here," Lorcan reminded Orpheus. "I don't get the whole shiny package you do."

"Just be there," the older Vampire told the younger one.

"Sure, sure," Lorcan replied. "I'll even take pictures."

Orpheus growls and Lorcan's band looked up in alarm.

"Will you two keep it down? Some of us are trying to work here," the drummer yelled at them, making Orpheus scowl and Lorcan smirk smugly.

 

**LXXVI**

Harry felt like he was dancing on a cloud. Orpheus had just picked him up, after he was done staring at him. He had been told often enough after he was rescued from the Dursley’s that he was cute and pretty, that his eyes made him look beautiful as a child and that as he grew up, gained height and a more masculine look, he was quite handsome for his age. His parents told him even more often as a rule, trying to undo the damage his relatives had done. Often other models and people from the industry recognized his looks as well. Since he went to Hogwarts and made friends there, those friends also commented on his appearance often enough. But no one before had been interested in him 'that' way, sexually that is. Orpheus had stopped and stared at him before smirking and kissing Harry's lips chastely, mindful of the fact that the boy's parent's were watching from the window.

"You look delectable," he had then seductively whispered in Harry's ear, nipping his earlobe lightly before pulling away and leading Harry to his car.

The green eyed teen had been flustered at the attention but he had recovered fast and had gotten into the vehicle with the Vampire.

"Where to?" Harry asked.

Orpheus smiled. "When was the last time you saw a movie?"

The wizard grinned. "You are rather traditional aren't you? Movies?"

"And dinner afterwards," the Vampire offered.

"Oh! Where are we eating? And what movie are we watching?"

Before Orpheus started the car, he turned to Harry and leaned dangerously close to the teen. Harry held his breath when the creature of the night was only a breath away. The green eyed wizard knew that his heart was thudding loud enough that even he could hear it.

"Tell me," Orpheus' voice took on a dangerous quality.

Harry was reminded of the male's voice when he sang. His shudder did not go unnoticed but the Vampire chose not to comment on it.

"Does it really matter what movie we are seeing or where we are eating?" he queried. Then he moved his face closer and nuzzled his nose against Harry's throat, just under the teen's ear. "Does it?"

Then he abruptly pulled back and turned to face the road. Harry blinked trying to get out of his haze of lust. He had seen the fangs; he had seen the hunger in Orpheus’ eyes. He said nothing as the Vampire started the car but he could not help but think it was a pity Orpheus had not made the move to sink his fangs into him. He still recalled how it felt, providing for the Vampire. He missed that feeling, he missed it a lot.

As if reading his mind, Sanguini spoke then. "It's too soon."

Harry blinked.

"I want to drink from you, but it is too soon. You are more than an easy meal Harry," Orpheus stated. He took a hand off the wheel of the car and sought out Harry's smaller hands and in particular, the one that had his ring on. "This means a lot to me."

"I know," the teen admitted.

"Good. Now sit back and relax. Be prepared to have a great time."

 

**LXXVII**

Lorcan rather enjoyed his job of being a shadow, chaperoning the Vampire he regarded as a friend and the mortal wizard that had captured Orpheus' cold heart. It had been easy to disguise himself, despite all the whining he did to Orpheus. He was part wizard and he could do cosmetic charms and glamour charms as needed. He kept a respectable distance from the dating pair and kept an eye on Orpheus just in case the older Vampire lost control or pushed the teen into something he was not ready for. It was admirable, he privately thought, the lengths to which Sanguini went to in order not to let his baser nature scare the teen wizard off. It also revealed just how smitten Orpheus was with the green eyed male. Had he not seen with his own two eyes how Orpheus behaved around Harry he would have never believed it. When around the teen, Orpheus changed, became lighter, protective... he even smiled. And he was trying to impress, not that he needed to, but he was giving it his all. It was shocking to see and humbling too. Lorcan knew, the more he saw the fledgling couple that this was it, this was what emotions could do.

The part Vampire singer stared again at the pair once again. The date schedule for today was a walk in the park (he had laughed when Sanguini had informed him) and that puppy Orpheus had gotten the teen (he still recalled being dragged to the farm just outside London where the breeder had the litter of cute, furry and slobbery canines) was with the pair. It made a cute scene, though he would never admit that out loud, certainly not when another Vampire was present (he had an image to maintain after all) but it was also something he envied just a little bit. Companionship like that, it was a rare thing. Inwardly he wished that Orpheus did not screw this up because Lorcan knew that the older Vampire would not have another chance, not with Harry nor with another. He wished the pair luck and made himself comfortable as he kept an eye on them. He’d already had a close call once, when Orpheus' fangs came down after an admittedly heated making out session during which time Lorcan both felt like a pervert for watching and quite a bit turned on as the two males made a sexy sight all caught up in one another (he even got an inspiration for a song but he would not tell that to Orpheus just yet). Still, he preferred being bored to actually having to tackle the older Vampire away from the wizard.

 

**LXXVIII**

Kissing was an art. That was the conclusion Harry reached after six dates with Orpheus.

The Vampire had put all his hundreds of years experience and money to good use, taking Harry to all the places the teen had dreamed to go on a date and then some he had not even imagined existed. Movies and restaurants, parks and small, reclusive bistros, outings to shop, games, concerts; within six dates the teen could say that he was never bored, not even when the Vampire simply asked him out for a walk, a simple walk (that had been date number four) during which time the two males talked about everything, from music and literature to war and politics. Harry was no Ravenclaw but he enjoyed the discussion and the challenge of keeping up intellectually with the Vampire and apparently, Orpheus loved hearing the teen's opinions, even if it was to argue against the points Harry raised.

The highlight of all dates however, had been kissing. Harry loved being kissed by Orpheus as every kiss was something new to him. Every single time the Vampire helped him discover another thing about himself. How he like when Orpheus paid attention to his neck. It did not matter which spot he lavished with kisses and nips, it was sure to get Harry's pupils dilated with lust. On their second date, at the concert, they had been dancing and laughing and the Vampire had kept Harry secluded in his arms and the teen had felt his body plastered so close to his back. it had been sin, feeling so much of the older male, having the Vampire tease him by being so close yet doing nothing besides that, except a few stolen kisses, a nuzzle against his throat and a hand trailing fingers through his messy hair.

Harry was like a small kitten whenever Orpheus would, well pet his hair. He liked the feeling of those long fingers lightly grazing his scalp, untangling his messy strands of hair, carefully caressing his neck and then leaving all together to just rest on the small of his back.

The proximity, Harry realised, was the most intoxicating thing about Orpheus. He just had to be near the man nothing but the two of them mattered. On an instinctive level he knew this was a dangerous situation, but the green eyed Hufflepuff had decided since the first date with the Vampire, that this was worth it all, the danger from associating with a Dark Creature, the reporters who would go wild if they ever found out about their relationship, even the fact that he had not seen his mortal friends as often as he would have liked to. It was slowly coming to be Harry's own obsession, this wanting to spend as much time as possible with Orpheus. Deep down, the scared child Philip and Clarissa had found in that hospital still craved the Vampire's protection, still toyed with the idea of death (a concept he had accepted years ago). He was not suicidal, he and his mother had already had this particular conversation and Harry had been honest with the Muggle woman. He was however, the teen had admitted, drawn to the darkness in Orpheus.

"Well, you were never a regular child," Clarissa had commented then. "You are aware of your mortality and death and are more accepting than most people are. I believe that is why you do not fear Vampires like most people do and, honey, I think you have a bit of hero worship for Orpheus. After all, if it had not been for him Philip and I might have never found you. I'll be forever grateful to him."

That had been a rather interesting conversation in Harry's opinion, and one that assured him that his parents supported this growing relationship he had with the singer.

 

**End of chapter.**


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